


writing books through letters

by majesdane



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-21
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:57:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Our lives are separate roads, we've picked our separate ways.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Love

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the EP "The Sounds of Love" by The Morning Light.

  
So yes, we could kiss. I could kiss you and you could kiss me. There's no science, plane ticket or clock stopping us. But if we kiss, it will end the world. And I've ended the world before. No one survived. Least of all me.  
\-- _pleasefindthis_

 

 

 

"I'm going to be late tonight," Effy says from the bathroom.

"What is it?" Naomi calls back over her shoulder, pulling a quarter-empty carton of orange juice from the refrigerator before kicking it closed, turning to the cupboard and pulling out two glasses. She turns as she hears the water in the bathroom shut off and Effy pad into the kitchen. "Is it a deadline, then," she says, leaning back against the counter as Effy presses a quick kiss to her cheek.

"As usual," she sighs, reaching past Naomi's head and pulling a bowl out of the cupboard. "You don't mind, do you?" She asks, fetching the milk and cereal and eating breakfast right there in the middle of the kitchen. "I mean, I know you were talking about going out tonight, and -- "

Naomi hushes her with a light kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's fine, really."

"So how are things going, then," Effy says while later when they're washing the breakfast dishes. "I mean, with work."

"Busy, actually," Naomi says, drying a glass. "You wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork I have to do. Honestly, I think I did less work when I was going around the world working from site to site. I never would have taken into consideration the amount of time I have to put in as one of the chief officers. It's fucking contracts and shit all the bloody time now. I miss being able to do all like, hands-on stuff, you know?"

Effy kisses her once she's set the glass back in its proper place.

"I know it's incredibly selfish of me," she says with a grin, leaning into Naomi, whose arms go around her waist in a second. "But I'm glad that you're not off saving the world and that you've managed to settle down in one place. Even though that place happened to be Boston," she says with a laugh, bumping their noses together.

"A _suburb_ of Boston," Naomi clarifies, kissing her one last time before untangling herself with a laugh, heading back towards the bedroom. "And I've got to get dressed now, alright? Otherwise I'm going to miss the train, be terribly late to work, and become a member of the unemployed workforce. And we wouldn't want that now, would we," she grins just as Effy pulls her back in again for another kiss.

 

;;

 

"Come on then, didn't you ever learn to do this is secondary school? " Effy teases playfully, as Naomi fumbles with her tie. "Why do you wear these things anyway," she mumbles, undoing the knotted mess that Naomi's made and tying it neatly. "There," she says, patting it. "You're sorted now."

"I've always been shit with ties," Naomi admits without an ounce of shame. "My mum used to help me out with it all the time. And," she says, pecking Effy on the cheek before ducking around her to pull her blazer out of the closet, "I like wearing suits when I go on these sort of meetings.; what with me being the only female chief executive -- in New England, anyway -- it helps me to blend in more. Besides," she adds with a smirk, turning back to the mirror and combing her fingers through her hair, "do you really want all those old men perving over me?"

"Mm, fair enough," Effy admits, reaching over and brushing the hair out of Naomi's eyes. "I don't want anyone else to know how amazingly fit you look in a nice short skirt."

"So now _you're_ perving over me?" Naomi asks with a smile, and Effy pulls her in by her tie and kisses her.

"Train, train," Naomi murmurs into the kiss, when Effy's arms go around her neck and her tongue slides along Naomi's bottom lip. "I have to go," Naomi presses gently, and Effy pulls away with a heavy sigh.

"I'm really regretting having to work late tonight," she grumbles, and Naomi leans back in and kisses her cheek once.

"Don't worry," she says, brushing a strand of dark hair behind Effy's ear. "I'll be waiting up for you."

"I know," Effy smiles, resting her hand on Naomi's chest. Then, "You really should be going. You've only got fifteen minutes to get to the train station. And drive carefully," she adds, as Naomi heads off with a wink and a smile, pocketing her car keys and slinging her bag over her shoulder, the apartment door shutting with a flat bang.

 

;;

 

She gets to the train station with only five minutes to spare, fumbles for change at the ticket booth, manages to get to the platform just in time. It's not even nine o'clock yet and it's already sweltering hot out; Naomi loosens her tie a bit, thinks that made it was a bad decision to dress in such dark colours today, because she can already feel herself beginning to perspire.

 _Fucking August_ , she thinks to herself with a frown, reminds herself to check into the bathroom once she's gotten to the office in order to straighten her clothes out again, just as she undoes the top button on her starched white blouse.

The train's crowded as usual; she manages to secure a seat near the back, one of the one-person seats right by the doors which are rather uncomfortable but a hell of a lot better than standing, especially during the busy hours. She pulls out her Blackberry as the train surges forward, annoyed at the less than stable connection as she attempts to load her email.

There's a new one from her boss letting her know that the meeting's been moved from Conference Room A to Conference Room E and another one from one the interns whose face she can't put the name to, informing her that he's finished with the paperwork for the company's involvement in some sort of charity event in Chicago that she can't be arsed to think about right now, not when she's been jostled by people moving about the cabin.

"Sorry," a girl mumbles quietly in her direction, as her bag catches Naomi in the elbow.

Naomi sighs, exiting out of her email and pocketing her Blackberry.

 

;;

 

It's pouring rain by the time the meeting's over at three o'clock, and of _course_ she hadn't thought to bring an umbrella with her, even though when she and Effy were lying in bed last night watching the news she'd heard that there'd be some scattered showers about the area. She's cursing the unpredictability of New England weather -- at least in _England_ everyone always just fucking _expects_ rain -- as she hails for a taxi, the rain soaking through her clothes.

She's at the train station in under three minutes and pays the driver before hurrying towards the building, feeling her wet trousers sticking uncomfortably to her bare ankles.

She's waiting in line for a ticket when her cell phone goes off; it's Effy.

"It's pissing rain here, in case you're wondering," Naomi grumbles into the phone and Effy laughs in response.

"Yeah, I can see that," she says, and Naomi imagines her sitting at her desk, in her mahogany-coloured leather chair, leaning back in it as she looks out through the giant double-planed windows in her office, staring out into the street. "You should have brought an umbrella."

"Well, I'll remember to do that next time, won't I," Naomi says, cradling her phone between her shoulder and ear as she hands the man at the window a bill and takes her ticket in response. "How's work?"

Effy sighs. Naomi can hear the creak of the chair as she shifts in her seat. "Tiring."

"Don't stress out too much, babe," Naomi says, picking her way through the crowd to get downstairs to her platform. "You'll get it done on time, yeah? You've already got the shoot done, which is the hard part. Now you've just got to put it all together."

"I'm shit at writing articles though."

"So fucking like, I don't know," Naomi says, switching the phone to her other ear. "Tell them that you just want to do photography. That you don't want to do anything else."

"I've tried that; it's complicated. They don't just _want_ someone who takes photos and fuck all else."

"We'll talk later, yeah? I'm downstairs and the connection is shit; my service keeps dropping in and out. Just call me when you're coming home and I'll like, order us a pizza or whatever. I promise it will be a very relaxing Friday evening. Stress and tension free."

Effy chuckles on the other end. "Well, I hope there'll be _some_ tension."

"Cheeky," Naomi says and hangs up with a laugh.

 

;;

 

There's an empty seat on the train when she boards, and she heads for it straight-away, even if it is a two-seater and she'll probably end up having to share it, because the last time she put her bag in the empty seat she got death glares for the entire train ride and it was incredibly uncomfortable.

She's just settling in -- undoing her tie, dropping her bag at her feet, running her fingers through her wet hair and pushing it back off her forehead -- when a girl with dark red hair appears next to the open seat.

"This taken?" She asks, pointing at it and when Naomi shakes her head, the girl mumbles a soft _thanks_ before sliding down beside her with a sigh, dropping her briefcase at her feet and rubbing at her eyes before reaching into her coat pocket and retrieving a pair of half-rimmed glasses. She polishes them with the edge of her blouse before putting them on, pushing them up on her nose with an index finger.

When the train begins to move, pulling out of the station, the girl reaches down and unclasps her briefcase, rummaging around in it for a few moments before pulling out a notebook and a manila folder stacked with papers.

"I hope you don't mind," the girl says, pulling out a red felt-tip pen a moment later and uncapping it. "I like to grade papers while I'm on the train. Helps the ride go by quicker."

"Yeah, alright," Naomi says agreeably, rubbing at her temples; she can feel a massive headache coming on. She closes her eyes and rests her head against the window, the cool glass strangely inviting. She's fucking exhausted, but the last thing she wants to do is doze off and miss her stop and then have to back-track, which had already happened an embarrassing amount of times since May, and not all in part due to falling asleep.

They sit in a semi-comfortable silence for a bit. Naomi can hear the scratching of the pen on the paper as the girl writes things down. Finally, because she's curious, she says, "What're you doing?"

"Oh," the girl says, sounding terribly surprised that Naomi's even talking to her. "Just grading some essays for one of the freshman courses I'm teaching this year. Introduction to American Literature: Modernism to the Present."

"Oh."

"It doesn't sound terribly interesting, I know," the girl goes on with a half-smile. "And it probably seems a bit unusual that I'm teaching it, not being entirely American and all."

"I thought I heard an accent," Naomi says, perking up a bit. "You're English, aren't you?"

"I was born there, yeah," the girl says, her smile widening. "You're from there too, aren't you? I noticed right away."

"Lived there my whole life," Naomi says. "Well, until recently, anyway. I got offered a full-time position at a company here doing civil work, so we ended up moving; the offer was too good to resist, anyway."

"'We?'"

"Sorry?"

"You said 'we moved,'" the girl says, shuffling the papers in her lap.

Naomi flushes. "Right. Well, my g -- " she bites down on her lip, quickly corrects herself, "I mean, my partner and I, that's what I meant by 'we.'"

The girl beams at her and it's only then does Naomi get a decent look at her; soft pale skin with large brown eyes. Doe-like, half-hidden behind her glasses. "You mean, you and your girlfriend?"

Naomi starts, feels her face grow hot again. "Yeah. How did -- "

"You paused before you said 'partner,'" the girl says helpfully. "That, among other things. Anyway, don't worry; I've got one of my own. Well, technically speaking, we're 'taking a break,'" she adds, holding her hands up and miming quotation marks. "It's all a bit complicated right now, to be honest."

"Oh," Naomi says, feeling only slightly more comfortable.

They lapse into silence once more.

Naomi says, "I don't even know your name, actually," because she's only just realized that they've been having like, an actual conversation without even a proper introduction between them. She sticks out her hand rather awkwardly at the girl, says, "I'm Naomi."

"Emily," the girl says, shaking her hand firmly. Naomi thinks briefly that the girl -- Emily -- must use some sort of like, fucking magical skin lotion, because her hand is incredibly soft. It's only a second later when she realizes that she's been holding onto Emily's hand a moment too long; she drops it quickly, sticks her own hand back into her trouser pocket.

"So you're like, a teacher then," Naomi says, pointing at the stack of papers in her hand.

"Yeah," Emily sticks her pen behind her ear, folding up her glasses and depositing them in the small pocket on the front of her blouse. "I teach at Boston College. Do you work in the city as well?"

Naomi shakes her head. "I usually work in Framingham. It's closer to where I live."

"Oh!" Emily says, her face lighting up. "That's near Wellesley. That's where I went to college."

"Really," Naomi says, as the train stops at the Newton station and Emily begins packing her things back into her briefcase. "So did you like, grow up here? I mean, you've still got an accent, but it's less pronounced, so I'm guessing that you've lived here for a while. Is that right?"

"We moved here when I was sixteen. It was for my father's business, you see, not a permanent sort of thing. Anyway, we ended up staying here for about five years and I was already in college by the time it was time to move back home to England, so I just decided to stay here and finish out schooling. And well, I quite liked it here, so after I finished college I went and got my graduate degree at Clark. Which is where I live now, incidentally. Worcester, I mean," she adds after a moment with a small smile."Not Clark."

"Oh," Naomi says. "Do you miss them? I mean, your family."

Emily looks sad and it's a time before she says, quietly, "Sometimes."

They don't have much to talk about after that. Naomi leans back against the windows and dozes on and off until a hand on her shoulder shakes her gently awake; it's Emily quietly informing her that the stop for Framingham is coming up. Naomi murmurs a small "Thanks," rubbing at her eyes and stifling a yawn.

"Maybe I'll see you around then?" Emily asks, looking hopeful, and Naomi smiles and says, "Yeah, maybe," just as the train pulls into the station.

 

;;

 

"I met someone interesting today," Naomi says that evening, when she and Effy are curled up on the couch together watching re-runs of _The Shot_.

"Oh," Effy says, idly playing with a strand of Naomi's hair, one arm around Naomi's shoulders.

"On the train," Naomi clarifies, pressing a kiss to her temple. "An English girl, no less. She works at Boston College as an American Literature teacher and lives in Worcester. Her accent's not so strong, though, since she's been living here a while."

The show switches to a commercial and Effy sits up, kissing Naomi on the corner of her mouth before shifting forward and moving until she's straddling Naomi's legs. "Sounds like you two had a nice conversation," she says, before bending down to kiss Naomi more properly, her tongue sliding against Naomi's; she tastes like wine and cigarettes. Naomi's hands settle on her waist, holding her in place.

"It was quite a coincidence, yeah," Naomi says, pulling away for a moment to catch her breath.

"Yeah," Effy murmurs, having already lost interest. She bends down to trail a line of kisses along Naomi's jawline, as Naomi sighs, her hands sliding up Effy's thighs and underneath her skirt.

 

;;

 

Effy sighs beneath her as Naomi presses one last kiss to the inside of her thigh before sliding up with a smug grin, kissing Effy chastely on the lips once before rolling off her and allowing her to catch her breath. "Jesus," Effy manages with a tiny laugh. "You're remarkably good at that, you know that."

"So I've been told," Naomi says, kissing Effy's shoulder. Her lips come away salty; she licks at them, the taste of Effy still strong on her tongue. "So," she says against Effy's neck, biting down gently before soothing the spot over with her tongue, as her hand slips between Effy's legs, stroking lightly.

Effy makes a small sound of protest and pushes Naomi's hand away. "I need to fucking catch my breath," she groans, turning her head to kiss Naomi gently. "Fucking hell, you're like a teenage boy sometimes."

"Sorry," Naomi says without an ounce of guilt and Effy rolls her eyes and puts a hand on Naomi's shoulder, pressing her back down onto the mattress. "I didn't say I didn't _like_ it," she says, straddling Naomi's hips, the sheets bunching up around her waist. She reaches forward and covers Naomi's breasts with her hands, squeezing gently, before stroking her nipples with her thumbs. Naomi groans and Effy's small smile widens to a grin.

"You just need to give me a chance to catch my breath," she murmurs in Naomi's ear, bending down and pressing a kiss to it before dragging her tongue along the edge of it.

"Oh," Naomi's breath hitches as Effy's hand slides between her legs, fingers stroking purposefully; she tangles her fingers in Effy's hair and pulls her down for a rough kiss.

 

;;

 

Sunday they go out and have breakfast at a little cafe two blocks down from their apartment.

"Oh, right, I was going ask," Naomi starts, as Effy's cutting up her waffles "Did you want to go somewhere for Labor Day? I was thinking maybe that we could drive down to New York City for the long weekend, maybe catch a show or something. We wouldn't have to take the train the whole way," she adds, after a minute, taking a sip of her coffee. "I figure we could drive through Connecticut and then take the train into the city. It would save us some time, like that."

Effy swallows her mouthful of food. "You've obviously been thinking about this a lot. What's the occasion?"

"Nothing," Naomi says, feeling herself flush a bit. "It's just, well, it's been pretty much work non-stop since we came over here, and well, I think it'd be nice to take a bit of a holiday. I mean, if you wanted to."

"No, I think it would be fun," Effy says, reaching for Naomi's glass of cranberry juice and taking a long gulp of it. "I'm just surprised, is all. I didn't know you liked the theatre."

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me," Naomi teases gently, feels herself flush again as Effy's bare foot brushes against her leg, toes trailing up her calf. "I happen to be very cultured," she says, working very hard to keep a straight face.

"Mm," Effy agrees, taking another sip of juice and meeting Naomi's eyes over the glass with a smile.

"I'm a very cultured person indeed," Naomi says, her fluttering closed when Effy's foot moves up to her knee, trying very hard to not lean across the table and pull Effy in for a rather passionate kiss. "And you're going to have to do more than that if you want to get into my knickers, Miss Stonem," she says after a moment, swallowing hard and reaching for her coffee to distract herself. "Because I'm not that easy."

Effy smirks and raises an eyebrow. "That's not what I've heard."

"And see, there's yet another example of how well you don't know me," Naomi says with a cheeky grin. Her hand settles on top of Effy's on the table, giving it a squeeze. "God, it's almost like we're absolute strangers."

"Oh, completely," Effy nods, somehow managing to keep an impossibly straight face.

"But that being said, I think maybe we should probably, you know go back to the apartment," Naomi says lowly, clearing her throat as Effy's toes begin trailing back down her leg. "That way we can get to uh, _know_ each other better."

Effy says, reaching for her wallet, a smile playing across her lips,"I knew there was a reason I liked you; you always have the best ideas."

 

;;

 

In the morning Naomi wakes up earlier than usual, and, failing an attempt to fall back asleep, gets up and makes them pancakes for breakfast. Around seven o'clock Effy pads into the kitchen wearing an over-sized shirt and knickers, running a hand through her hair and yawning loudly.

She kisses Naomi on the cheek with a slight smile and fetches the orange juice from the fridge.

 

;;

 

"Oh, fancy running into you again so soon," a voice says above her, and when Naomi looks up she sees Emily standing next to her seat, glasses resting on the top of her head, her hair pulled up into a neat bun, her briefcase in hand. "I didn't think I was going to see you so -- well, I didn't think I was ever going to see you again, to be honest. Hello again."

"Hey," Naomi says, as Emily drops her briefcase to the floor, sitting down in a seat across the isle. "Thank god it's not raining this time, yeah?"

Emily smiles. "That's true."

They don't talk after that; Emily retrieves a stack of papers to grade from her briefcase and Naomi turns to her Blackberry, looking up room prices for hotels in New York City.

"Bye," Emily says, when they finally arrive at Naomi's stop, pulling her headphones away from her ears as Naomi stands up, holding onto the railing for support as the train slows to a stop. "Have a good weekend, yeah?"

"Thanks," Naomi says with a smile, turning to go. "You too."

 

;;

 

The fourth time they see each other is on the last Friday of August, on a rather windy and overcast afternoon.

Naomi's just entering the train station when she notices a flash of red hair out of the corner of her eye; turning, she sees Emily over by the vending machines getting a bottle of water. "Hey," she says, striding over, and Emily straightens, looking more than a little surprised to see her.

"We keep on running into each other, don't we?" Emily asks, grinning. "But it always seems to be on a Friday afternoon; why is that?"

"I have meetings in Boston on Fridays," Naomi explains. "It's easier to commute to the city once a week than every day."

"Lucky for me then too, huh?" Emily says as they get into the ticket line. "You know, if we keep running into each other like this, I daresay we may actually become friends. And then I'll have to invite you over for drinks, which you really don't want, because my apartment is an absolute mess."

Naomi laughs. "I don't think you'll have to invite me over any time soon, don't worry. I think -- " her phone rings then, interrupting her. She checks the name flashing up on the screen: Effy. "Hang on," she tells Emily, who nods and turns away as the line moves forward. "Hey babe," Naomi answers. "What's up?"

"You haven't left yet, have you?"

"No, I'm just picking up my ticket. Why?"

Effy says, "I'm getting out of work early tonight. My assistant told me about this place that she eats at regularly. It's brilliant, apparently. We should go there."

"Yeah, alright," Naomi says agreeably. "Where is it?"

"The city, a few blocks from the station, actually," Effy says, and Naomi can hear the sound of traffic in the background. "I can pick you up; I'm taking a cab over now."

"I'll be outside," Naomi says, before hanging up.

Emily turns back. "Was that your girlfriend?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. She was calling to let me know she was taking me out for an early to dinner tonight." Naomi smiles apologetically. "Sorry; I guess we won't be taking the train home together this time."

"It's perfectly fine," Emily says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm sure that I'll run into you again. Sooner rather than later, most likely. Have fun, wherever you're going.All the restaurants around here are absolutely brilliant, so you'll probably have a good time."

Naomi shifts her bag from one shoulder to the other. "Thanks. Look, I've got to go, yeah? She'll be here to pick me up in a minute or two."

"I'll see you later," Emily says over her shoulder as the line moves forward again and she hands her money over to the man at the ticket booth, waving goodbye for a quick moment before disappearing into the crowd.

 

;;

 

"So, New York, then?" Naomi asks over dinner, setting down her chopsticks and wiping her mouth on her napkin. "I've already booked us a room, you know, in advance, because I was worried about not being able to find a place because of the holiday. But if you don't want to -- "

"No, no, I do," Effy says, sipping her water. "I'm sorry that I didn't mention wanting to go sooner, but, oh, you know how it is. But yes, I want to go. Very much so," she says, reaching across the table and putting her hand on top of Naomi's, thumb stroking back and forth reassuringly. "I think it will be a lot of fun."

Naomi smiles. "Good, because it really would have been a shame to give up on such a fancy hotel suite."

"You know it'd be brilliant either way," Effy tells her, giving her hand a small squeeze before leaning across the table and giving her a peck on the lips. "Fancy hotel or not; it's all the same to me."

"I know," Naomi says, knotting their fingers together.

 

;;

 

They end up spending the entire weekend in bed, and though Naomi grumbles a bit about wasting a perfectly good holiday doing something they could have just as very well done at home, it doesn't stop her from pressing Effy back onto the mattress with a kiss when Effy's hand slips between them, fingers brushing teasingly against her nipples.

"We'll have to come back sometime again," Naomi says on Sunday evening, when they're lying in bed watching _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ on AMC, Effy curled up at her side, still a bit flushed from their recent lovemaking, the sheets pulled up around them both. "So we can actually like, _see_ the city this time," she says, stroking Effy's half absentmindedly.

"What, our view from balcony isn't grand enough?" Effy says stretching out lazily with a yawn. "I don't care about the fucking _city_ , Naomi. I just wanted to spend time with _you_."

"You just want an excuse to stay in bed," Naomi says, but she can't help smiling.

 

;;

 

After dinner,which entails ducking out for an hour or so to get pizza from a tiny restaurant down the street -- "Fucking _brilliant_ ," Effy calls it and has four slices and a Diet Coke and makes Naomi laugh -- they make love. Effy's tongue is fucking magic; every part of Naomi is sore once she's finished, pressing kisses all over Effy's face and hugging her tightly, suddenly feeling like all the air's been sucked out of her lungs.

"I love you," she sighs, minutes later, drawing circles on Effy's stomach with her forefinger.

Effy presses a kiss to the top of her head, smooths back her hair, doesn't say _I love you_ back. She doesn't have to; Naomi already knows. She smiles and kisses Effy's stomach once before shifting until she can kiss her properly. Effy sighs into the kiss, her fingers threading gently though Naomi's hair, and pulling her in closer.

Naomi's the first to drift off to sleep, but also the first to wake, sitting up groggily and pulling the blankets back onto the bed, Effy having kicked them off at some point during the night. She yawns and curls in closer to Effy, wrapping an arm around her waist and nuzzling gently against her neck. Effy shifts and mumbles something incomprehensible in her sleep and Naomi just smiles to herself and presses a soft kiss to the space where Effy's neck and shoulders meet.

Two hours later and Effy's still asleep.

She's fucking sore from lying in this position, so Naomi gently untangles herself and slips away, sitting up in bed with another rather loud yawn and stretching her arms up above her head. Glancing over her shoulder at Effy, she sees that Effy's still dead to the world, mouth open slightly, looking very small indeed in bed with so many blankets.

Her jeans are lying in a crumpled heap on the side of the bed. Naomi slips into them, tugs on a shirt, ducks into the bathroom once to check herself in the mirror and to make sure that her hair isn't sticking out unfortunately in all directions. She brushes her teeth quickly, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and dropping her toothbrush into the cup on the counter next to the sink.

Effy doesn't stir at all when Naomi kneels down on the bed beside her and presses a light kiss to her temple.

She leaves a note on the nightstand by the bed: _out for coffee, back soon. love, n._

 

;;

 

It's fairly warm outside.

Naomi asks the porter at the door to point her in the direction of what, in his opinion, is at least a fairly decent coffee shop, and a minute later she's off down the street for a three-block walk. The streets are slightly less crowded than she would have expected at nearly eleven o'clock in the morning, but she chalks it up to the idea that most people are probably using the holiday to sleep in.

She passes Times Square on her way, marvels at the massive screens advertising movies and television shows, right beside the billboards advertising various Broadway shows. She makes a mental note to drag Effy here sometime so that they can do some proper sightseeing, even if she balks somewhat at the prospect of them turning into stereotypical tourists. Underneath that, on her mental list of things to do in New York City, she adds: _do things that tourists do not_.

The coffee shop is a rather small, unremarkable place on West 43rd Street that she walks past the first two times and it's only on the third pass does she notice the tiny sign over the door indicating the entrance.

 

;;

 

The shower's running when she gets back.

She slips out of her plimsolls, and settles down in one of the low-set armchairs across from the television, turning it on and skipping around until she finds one of the local news stations. The meteorologist is halfway through the week's overview for weather when the bathroom door opens and Effy comes out in just a towel, hair damp sticking to her shoulders.

"I got coffee," Naomi says, offering the cup to her. Effy sits down on the edge of the bed near her, sips it quietly.

When the station goes to a break and a commercial for soap comes on, Naomi gets up and stretches, bending her arms up and behind her head. She kisses Effy on the cheek and tosses away her empty cup, before flopping down on the bed with a sigh.

"When do you want to leave," she says, reaching out and stroking the back of Effy's arm, skin still damp from the shower. "I think the latest we can check out is one o'clock without having to pay for an extra day."

Effy doesn't say anything, just leans over and sets her coffee down on the nightstand beside the clock before lying down beside Naomi with a soft sigh. Her hair's still damp and clinging to her cheeks; Naomi brushes it away from her face, kisses her chastely on the lips. Effy makes a small sound of approval and Naomi smiles and kisses her again, a bit harder this time. Her hand falls to Effy's thigh, fingers skimming over the space of bare skin right where her towel ends. Effy smiles and shifts in closer, arching her back just slightly, but enough to get her point across.

Naomi kisses her, fingers dancing up higher on Effy's thigh. "Right then," she says with a smile, as Effy tips her head back with another quiet sigh, allowing Naomi to press kisses along the gentle slope of her neck. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to stay a bit longer."

"Let's just stay as long as we like," Effy says, cupping Naomi's face in her hands and kissing her full on the mouth.

 

;;

 

Naomi doesn't see Emily for two weeks.

 

;;

 

On the third week in September, she spots her stepping of a taxi and calls out to her.

Emily turns around, a smile breaking out across her face. "Hey," she says, when Naomi jogs up to her. "Long time no see, yeah? I hope that you had a good holiday."

"Sorry," Naomi says, as they begin making their way into the station. "I've been taking an later train these past few weeks. Effy's been so busy that I've been staying with her at her office in the afternoons and evenings. Usually she likes to be alone when she works, but I've managed to persuade her that it _is_ actually important to take a break once and a while. And to, you know, eat. It's easier when I'm there, you know, to help out."

"You're very sweet," Emily says, getting into line for tickets.

Naomi laughs. "Not really, honestly. Most of the time I'm a bit of a self-centred twat."

Emily smiles. "Maybe it's just that Effy's rather special then?"

"Something like that," Naomi agrees, digging her wallet out of her bag and handing over a twenty to the girl behind the ticket counter who hands her back her change and white and orange ticket. "You know, she doesn't talk much. Effy, I mean. She's very quiet. She kind of just like, sits and watches people she's very observant. She's . . . different." She laughs after a minute, growing a bit self-conscious. "I'm sorry; I don't know why I'm going on like this. You don't care."

"Watch your step," Emily says, just as Naomi's about to stumble over someone's bag. "Anyway," she says cheerfully, leading the way downstairs to the platform. "Don't worry about it. It's kind of cute, actually, that you're babbling about your girlfriend to almost a complete stranger."

"Oh, you're not a stranger," Naomi says confidently, finding an open bench and sliding down into the seat, dropping her bag on the ground at her feet. She motions at Emily who hesitates slightly before sitting down next to her, briefcase resting flat across her lap.

"If I'm not a stranger," Emily says, after a moment or two. "Then what am I?"

"A friend," Naomi says, startled a bit at her own words.

 

;;

 

On the train, Emily sits down in the seat beside Naomi without any degree of awkwardness or hesitation.

 

;;

 

A Friday in late October, she sees Emily on the train in morning for the first time ever.

She sees a flash of red first before she actually sees Emily herself, who waves and beckons her over, pointing down at the space beside her. Naomi makes her way down the cabin, accidentally jostling a woman trying to fold up a copy of the _Times_ who glares at her and mutters something under her breath.

"Good morning," Emily says cheerily, sitting near the back of the cabin, headphones around her neck and her bag on the empty seat next to her. "I think this is the first time I've ever seen you on in the morning," she remarks, taking her bag off the seat to make room.

"It is," Naomi nods, sitting down with a heavy sigh. "It's fucking crazy this morning for some reason; I left twenty minutes early and I _still_ was almost late."

"But you made it."

"I did. Anyway, good morning. How come I've never seen you in the mornings before?"

Emily says, "Usually I take the 7:35 train, but I was kept in a bit later than usual today and ended up having to take the 8:30, which, I'm guessing, is the train _you_ usually take, yeah?"

"Yeah," Naomi says, nodding. Then, "Why were you kept late?"

Emily flushes a bright pink colour at that and mumbles something about a house guest who is remarkably persuasive.

Naomi laughs. "Your girlfriend, then?"

"A different one than before," Emily says, regaining a bit of composure. "I mean, the one I mentioned to you, the first day we met? She ended up fucking off to California to be with some singer she met at a bar. The girl I'm with now -- well, it's more of a casual thing than anything else. I mean, I usually don't _do_ casual, it makes me feel awkward and weird, but I just feel like it's what I need right now, you know?"

"What's her name?"

"Ivy. She's working to be a doctor."

"Does she live around Worcester, then?"

"Funny story about that, actually," Emily says colouring a bit more and shifting in her seat, dropping her bag to the floor. "I actually met her at the train station in Worcester. She works at St. Vincent's, takes the T in from Grafton, because she doesn't have a car. I ran into her -- literally, I mean, I got coffee all over her blouse -- rushing into the station one morning. And well, you know how it goes."

Naomi smiles. "That's rather sweet, actually."

Emily's cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink. "Thanks."

They lapse into a comfortable silence, until Emily says, "So, uh. How did you and -- sorry, it's Effy, right? -- how did you two meet?"

Naomi yawns, covering her hand with her mouth. "Oh, I've known Effy for forever. We went to college together, you know, back in England. I can't even remember how I grew to know her, actually; it was one of those sort of things that just happened. We were in the same form, I remember. Anyway, we ended up going to uni together, accidentally, and one night she kissed me at a party -- she was completely off her face, mind, she always knew how to have the most fun -- and one thing led to another, and, well," she trails off, making a vague gesture with her hand.

"That's a rather unusual story," Emily says, after a moment. "I mean, I'm not saying it isn't nice, just -- well, she _is_ different, isn't she? Like you said."

"But I do love her," Naomi says. "Very much so, actually. She's always been there, you know? Her and my mum. Even when I fucked off for two years to work for the United Nations Peace Corps. Which, in retrospect, probably wasn't the best course of action after uni, but well, I had very strong convictions back then about wanting to save the world and all that."

"You talk as if it's been ages ago," Emily says, with a laugh, as the train stops at Yawkey Station. "You're only like, what? Twenty seven?"

"Twenty eight, actually," Naomi says with a grin. "I just turned it last month."

"Happy belated birthday, then."

"Thanks. I feel right old."

"Oh yes, positively ancient, I agree," Emily says, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably. "Although, I suppose I can't talk, because I'm three months older than you."

"Not so old after all then, am I?" Naomi asks, smirking, and Emily just laughs and shakes her head.

 

;;

 

The day drags on forever.

She rings Effy during lunch, gets her voice mail. She doesn't bother to leave a message.

 

;;

 

Emily's on one of the benches downstairs at the platform when Naomi arrives.

She's got a pounding headache and the two aspirin she took earlier haven't helped. Neither had the third one, which she'd taken dry on the walk over. She manages a weak smile, however, and Emily smiles right back at her, looking up from her book.

"You kind of look like shit," she says, as Naomi leans against the wall beside the bench. "Rough day?"

"That would be an grand understatement," Naomi groans, and Emily nods understandingly before turning back to her book.

The train comes two minutes later and they board without speaking, settling into two different seats, Emily in one three rows away.

 

;;

 

"How did we meet?" Naomi asks two nights later, when they're watching _Top Gear_ on the couch, her head on Effy's shoulder, fingers tracing light circles on her bare knee. "I mean, back in college. I don't remember."

A long pause. "At a party," Effy says finally, exhaling a mouthful of smoke.

"I don't remember that," Naomi says, reaching over her for the fag and taking a long, slow drag of it before handing it back, her hand returning to Effy's knee. "I can't seem to remember any of it, actually," she says, after a moment, as the programme cuts to commercials.

"You were proper pissed that night, that's why," Effy says, in a tone that manages to be sweet and condescending all at once. "You'd had half a bottle of gin before the night was even over and you found me upstairs and I offered to share my spliff with you, because you looked like you needed it."

Naomi sighs. Effy takes a long drag of the fag, lets the smoke drift from her mouth lazily, up to the ceiling.

Effy says, after several long moments, "The first time I kissed you, you tasted of cranberries. Must have been an alcohol pop." She crushes out the cigarette in the purple-blue glass ashtray on the coffee table in front of them.

"Everyone knew you'd snogged me," Naomi says. "We were in the middle of the fucking club. Or party. Or whatever it was. You smeared my lipstick." She presses her lips against Effy's shoulder, closes her eyes when Effy's fingers trail along her arm, stroking it gently. "Why did you kiss me?"

"Because," Effy says, very slowly, her gaze fixed straight ahead. "You looked like you needed someone to kiss you."

 

;;

 

Naomi wakes the next morning to blue eyes staring intently at her.

"Hey," she murmurs, her mouth dry, reaching up and cradling Effy's face with her hand, her whole body sore from falling asleep in such an awkward position. Her thumb strokes across Effy's cheek; Effy smiles and pulls her hand away, kissing her fingers lightly, one by one by one. Naomi sighs and sits up on her knees, kissing Effy softly.

"You fell asleep during the news," Effy says. "I didn't want to wake you up."

"You just sat up all night, then?" Another kiss.

"I slept some. Anyway, it was nice, being able to watch you sleep and all, since you're usually always up before me. I don't normally get a chance to see you like that."

Naomi smiles, kisses her again, even lighter this time. Teasing. "Mm. And what do I look like when I sleep?"

"You look like a girl I met when I was at a party while still in college who drank half a bottle of gin by herself, got spliffed, and fell asleep with her head on my lap when we were sitting in a bed that didn't belong to either of us."

"So, I basically looked like myself, then," Naomi says with a grin, standing up and stretching, her muscles cramped and sore.

A pause. Then, "No," Effy says, quietly, reaching for her. "You didn't look like yourself at all"

Naomi laughs, letting Effy pull her back down onto the couch. "That doesn't make sense at all," she says good-naturedly, as Effy's arms go around her neck and she kisses her in a rough sort of way that Naomi's not quite used to.

 

;;

 

They make love incredibly slowly; Effy stretching out lazily on the bed while Naomi's fingers and tongue skim over every inch of bare skin she can find, until they're both shaking and unable to take anymore. Effy comes with a soft sigh, pulling Naomi up by the shoulders and kissing her breathlessly. Naomi presses light kisses along Effy's neck and shoulders until she comes down, running her fingers through Naomi's hair and nuzzling against her.

"What did I taste like," Effy asks, several long moments later, after Naomi's rolled over onto her back. She looks over at Effy, confused; Effy moves forward, her hand sliding between Naomi's thighs, stroking quickly and purposefully. "When you kissed me, that first time," she whispers in Naomi's ear, nipping at it with her teeth. "What did I taste like?"

"Vodka," Naomi pants, gripping the sheets for support. "And cigarettes. And spliff. And something else -- I don't know what it was. Something sweet, beneath everything else. Oh, _Effy_."

Effy stares at her with bright blue eyes; it's too much. She arches up against Effy's hand with a small cry, biting down on her bottom lip, stars flashing behind her eyelids.

"Jesus," Naomi manages, exhausted but still incredibly on edge. "Fuck -- Effy, come here," she pleads, and Effy withdraws her hand silently, licking her fingers clean before shifting up and letting Naomi pepper her face with small, desperate kisses. Her hand settles on the small of Effy's back, pulling Effy closer to her; Effy sighs and kisses her more properly.

Naomi opens her mouth to speak again; Effy presses a finger to her lips, shushing her. "Don't," she says, rolling over onto her side and tugging Naomi along with her. "I already know."

She settles for another kiss instead.


	2. You're Not Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You're perfect pictures in my hand of possibility._

It's December before she even realizes it.  
  
"What are you and Effy doing for the holidays?" Emily asks while they're walking to Starbucks together. "I was thinking maybe about going home -- you know, flying back to England -- for a few days or so, but honestly, I just don't think I'll have time. I have so many exams and papers to grade; I'm sure it's going to eat up all my free time."  
  
"I don't know what we're doing, actually," Naomi says, rubbing her hands together to keep them warm, damning herself for forgetting to dig her gloves out of the giant box they've got in their closet marked 'Winter Clothing' before she'd left the apartment that morning. "I think we may go to New York City, at least for a few days, though I'd love to stay longer, if possible. But Effy and I both have work and well, they're not exactly set schedules like the kind you've got."  
  
Emily kicks at a stone on the street while waiting at the curb for the light to change so they can cross. "I was going to ask -- well, maybe, if you two wanted to like, come over for New Year's -- well, I know we don't like,  _actually_  know each other and that Effy and I have never met, but -- I mean, I haven't got anyone else to spend it with -- "  
  
Naomi laughs, waving her hand dismissively. "I'll ask Effy, alright? It's not as if you're a complete stranger, mind, since I've known you for months now. And it's not like Effy would care, anyway. She still loves parties; I think that's the one thing that  _hasn't_  changed in all this time I've known her."  
  
"It'd hardly be a party," Emily says, looking a bit flushed from the cold.  
  
"Doesn't matter," Naomi tells her, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. "I'll ask her about it."  
  
It's only a few minutes later when she says, "You don't have anyone to spend New Year's with?"  
  
Emily bites down on her bottom lip and looks down at the street, avoiding Naomi's eyes. "Well, like I told you, Ivy and I were more of a casual thing than anything else. And she's . . . Well, we --  _I_  -- realized that it just wasn't working out."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Naomi starts to say, but Emily cuts her off with a rueful smile. "Don't be. I'm not that upset about it, honestly."  
  
The rest of the walk is spent in a heavy silence.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
Naomi gets a chai tea with whipped cream, at Emily's suggestion, who says with a rather smug grin that this shop sells the best chai tea she's ever fucking had. They sit down at a small table over by one of the windows in the corner. Naomi watches the steam rise from their cups, as Emily bows her head and blows on her coffee gently with just the faintest of smiles.  
  
"You alright?" Emily asks, after a time, and it's only then that Naomi realizes she's been staring.  
  
"Yeah, sorry," she says quickly, feeling her face grow hot. "I'm just off this morning."  
  
"PMT?"  
  
"No, just tired, I think," Naomi sighs, rubbing her temple. "Everything's just a bit crazy at the moment, especially with work, because we're wrapping up a lot of projects for the end of the year, you know? There's just so much going on. And Effy, you know, she has deadlines and all that. She's very stressed."  
  
"What does she do, anyway?" Emily takes a small sip of her coffee. "I don't think you've ever said."  
  
"Right now she's working for  _Boston_  magazine. She does photography, mostly, but she writes articles too, if she has to. She somehow convinced them during her interview that she was good at that sort of thing, but usually I end up reviewing them for her."   
  
"She could take classes somewhere," Emily offers, blowing once more on her drink to cool it. "Personally I could recommend a few excellent English courses at a rather exceptional college . . . " she trails off with a laugh.   
  
Naomi snorts. "I don't think Effy has the drive to do that sort of thing. Anyway, photography's her one true love. She had her own business back in England, you know. And she did freelancing. I think she's a bit unhappy here, because she's always being told what to do and who and what to shoot. She's sort of a free spirit, you know. She doesn't like being tied down."   
  
The first few tentative snowflakes drift down to the ground.   
  
Naomi glances out at the window and up at the sky, which for weeks now has seemed to be perpetually dull and grey. Her hands are still cupped around her paper cup; she takes a small taste of her drink, surprised when it appears to be just as fucking good as Emily declared it to be. She makes a mental note to take Effy here at some point, before voicing her thoughts on the matter.  
  
"See," Emily says rather smugly. "I told you so."  
  
  
;;  
  
  
"It's a good thing I know you," Naomi says, later, when they're standing outside and pulling on gloves and hats and scarves again. "I mean, I'm glad we met, you know? I'd be so lost in Boston all by myself. It's just me and Effy here and I think it's nice, to have at least someone else to talk to."   
  
"Effy's not very talkative, then?"   
  
"You must think she's mental or something."   
  
"Not really. Just . . . different, is all. And anyway, I don't really know her now, do I? I only know what you've told me. I haven't even met her yet."   
  
"I promise I'll introduce you both at some point," Naomi says, shrugging her bag onto her shoulder. "I think you'd like her, actually. Even if you two are pretty much complete opposites."   
  
Emily shrugs, picks up her bag. "I'm sure she's very nice. The three of us could all go out to dinner some evening, when you're not busy. After the holidays, of course; we're all much too busy this month to be making plans."  
  
"Alright," Naomi says agreeably, pushing the button for the walk signal and waiting for the light to change. "And if I don't see you again -- well, have a happy Christmas, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," Emily says, smiling and giving her a small wave before turning away. "You too."  
  
  
;;  
  
  
She can't quite remember, even now, meeting Effy at that party way back when they were in college. And it's not even the actual meeting itself that she can't remember; everything from those first early months just seems like a blur to her, and she can't recall even the most basic of things. But she does remember the first time Effy slid down into the empty seat beside her in Politics class, way back in college. She'd just said "Hey," -- nothing more, nothing less.. When class was over, Effy had turned and met her gaze with intense blue eyes.   
  
"I've got to pick something up," she'd said. "Do you want to come with?"   
  
It turned out that the thing she had to pick up was drugs, and after paying, Effy'd rolled herself a spliff with a clearly practiced ease. She had taken a long drag of it before passing it over to Naomi; the smoke had burned her lungs, when she inhaled. Naomi didn't know why she was doing this, since she could be out doing something much more productive and meaningful right now, could be doing anything else but sit here on a park bench with Effy getting high.   
  
But it felt right, for some reason, and even now she's not sure why.   
  
Maybe it was the blueness of Effy's eyes or the way she didn't talk, just kept quiet, but it wasn't an uncomfortable sort of silence, with Effy. It just  _was_. Or maybe, on a simpler level, it was because Naomi'd never really had any friends before, and maybe back then she  _did_  remember getting drunk at a party and falling asleep with her head in Effy's lap, and it was the first time she'd ever felt anything like it before -- a connection. A sense of camaraderie, if it could be called that.  
  
Whatever it had been, it was the reason Naomi'd stayed, instead of fucking off home.   
  
And it wasn't as if they were actually friends after that. Naomi had her interests and Effy had whatever she was into, and occasionally they would see each other at parties, and Effy always sat next to her in Politics class, and when Effy was feeling talkative for a change, she would ask Naomi how she was. Somehow, that'd been enough, not really being friends, but a just kind of  _knowing_  there was a comfortable sort of relationship between them.   
  
Effy'd kissed her at a party in uni -- and it was the  _last_  place Naomi'd expected her to be, but then, she'd never asked Effy about her plans after college -- and everything had changed.   
  
They hadn't  _dated_  per se. At least, Naomi wouldn't call it that. It was more like they fell into a pattern: Effy began sitting next to her in the one lecture they shared; Naomi started to see her more at parties, and it was more than just  _seeing_  Effy there, they'd actually begun to talk to one another, fucking off upstairs to split a bottle of vodka or gin or tequila and a spliff; Effy'd kissed her again one afternoon completely sober, when they were sitting and eating lunch on a park bench, and that had been that.   
  
Her mum was rather pleased, of course. The fact that Effy was a girl didn't bother her at all; she was just pleased that Naomi was actually seeing someone, let alone that it was serious. And it helped that Effy could sit quietly for hours on end and pretend to be interested in whatever cause Naomi's mum was working fervently for at the moment.   
  
Things had been rather easy, Naomi realizes. Everything had worked out without even really trying. She doesn't think it makes what happened less worth it, but sometimes she finds herself wishing that it had happened a bit differently, if it had been more of a challenge, being happy. She doesn't think that it should have come to them so easily; it seemed wrong, somehow, but maybe it was because her mum had always made out love to be this grand and wondrous thing that you worked very hard to build up, but in the end it was always just all heartache and disaster.   
  
Like everything with Effy, it was different.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
"Let's go somewhere for New Year's," Naomi says, over dinner. "We'll go someplace where you can take photos. Someplace very lovely. Maybe New York City?"   
  
"I want to see the ocean in winter," Effy says, sipping her wine. "I want to see if it looks the same here."   
  
Naomi almost says that of course it does, because it's the same ocean, they'll just be looking at it another way, and then she thinks that maybe that's the whole point. She smiles at Effy across the table, glances over out the window where outside it's snowing gently. "Alright, we can go somewhere on the coast," she says, cutting into her chicken. "Where do you suggest?"  
  
"Anywhere," Effy says, swirling the contents of her glass. "As long as I can sleep by the ocean."  
  
  
;;  
  
  
Naomi spends days researching places to stay on the coastline, narrowing her search down to somewhere in New England, as she doesn't want to have to deal with the holiday rush down in the warmer states, and besides, she doesn't think she'd be able to get a booking, anywhere, on such short notice.   
  
Near the end of the week, she manages to find a small bed and breakfast up in Maine, a little shore town called Kennebunkport that she's never heard of before, but looking at the pictures of the house and town and the subsequent views of the coastline is enough to convince her that it'd be the perfect place to spend the holiday with Effy. She's a bit surprised that there's an opening, but then it occurs to her that Effy is most likely one of the few people who actually likes to go someplace  _colder_  for winter holidays.   
  
She sends an email to Effy after she's made reservations, including a link at the bottom so that Effy can see the place for herself, though she's fairly certain that Effy would be pleased with anything that she chose. Effy of course doesn't respond to the email; later that evening when she arrives home from work she presses Naomi down onto the couch with a very firm kiss that tells Naomi she's done a good job.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
On the beach, Naomi draws a heart in the sand with her toe, then writes  _Effy + Naomi_  in the middle of it. It's an overly sentimental act, even for her, but the small smile it produces from Effy, who shakes her head and snaps a picture of it later when she thinks Naomi isn't looking is reason enough to do it in the first place.  
  
Effy tries to get her to go swimming, but Naomi ends up standing at the edge of the water holding her camera, as Effy tugs off her jumper and dives in. The water's probably fucking freezing, Naomi thinks, with an eyeroll, but she manages to haphazardly snap a few photos of Effy swimming before Effy clamours out of the water, dripping wet and shivering.  
  
It doesn't stop her from smiling ridiculously though, as she pulls Naomi in for a kiss, wet clothes and all.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
Effy's hair still smells like the ocean, even after she's showered, and Naomi inhales deeply, kissing along her neck in the process. She's suddenly reminded of the time they went to Brighton, after university, since Naomi'd never been and Effy said all proper lesbians went there, at least once, and so they'd taken the train and spent the day down there, sitting in white and blue and red striped chairs and staring out at the ocean or riding the ferris wheel. They'd shared an ice cream cone for lunch and Effy had tasted of vanilla for the rest of the day, even after she'd smoked through half a pack of fags and finished off a small bottle of vodka.   
  
When Naomi licks her lips, they taste salty. She thinks she will forever associate the ocean with Effy now.   
  
"You're thinking too much," Effy sighs, her fingers trailing down Naomi's back, hands cupping her arse. "I usually don't mind, but now's not the time."   
  
"Sorry," Naomi mumbles in her shoulder, grinning, and pulls back enough just so that she can kiss Effy properly. Effy's nails dig into her skin ever so slightly, just enough to let her know that she's taking too long, and Naomi chuckles and slides down some, her tongue circling once around Effy's nipple before she takes it into her mouth completely, sucking slowly.  
  
Effy lets out a low groan and Naomi shifts a bit more, slipping a hand in between Effy's legs, stroking gently until Effy shudders against her. Effy sighs, runs her fingers through Naomi's hair and watches her through heavy-lidded eyes. Naomi smiles and kisses the space between her breasts before sliding even lower. Effy moans and arches up against her mouth, legs shaking slightly as Naomi's tongue runs along the inside of her thigh.   
  
"Fuck," she mutters quietly, and Naomi props herself up on her elbows for half a minute just to look at her, flushed and naked on the pale blue sheets, and she looks so fucking gorgeous that it makes Naomi's head spin, even now.   
  
When she presses her tongue flat against Effy's clit, Effy let's out a strangled " _Naomi_  -- " and Naomi can feel her heart turning over slowly in her chest at the sound.   
  
  
;;  
  
  
"How was your holiday?" Emily asks, in January, the first time they've seen each other in nearly a month. "Go anywhere nice?"   
  
"A bed and breakfast up in Maine, actually," Naomi says, going through her email, almost dropping her Blackberry when the train comes to a rather rough stop, the doors opening with a soft hiss. "It was right on the beach. Absolutely lovely. Have you ever been up there?"   
  
"Once," Emily says. "My family and I went up there summer of my junior year in high school. I got a terrible sunburn because of it, since I didn't put on enough sunscreen. I was supposed to be tanning with my mum, but I ended up having to spend the rest of the summer under the umbrellas in the shade." She toys with a button on her coat. "Plus, I'm not one for swimming, really. I don't really care much for the ocean."   
  
Naomi snorts. "Don't care much for the ocean? I'm not sure what to make that."   
  
"It's very -- well, I don't know," Emily says, flushing a bit.   
  
"You should have seen Effy. The water was freezing and she just dove right in, right when we were just walking along the beach. She's rather fearless, Effy is."   
  
"Everything once, yeah?" Emily says, and reaches into her coat pocket for her phone, checking the time. "Do you want to maybe go somewhere before, you know, you have to go to work? We're running a bit early today, it seems, and there's this amazing new coffee shop that opened up while you were away on holiday."  
  
Naomi checks her schedule.   
  
"Sorry, can't. Apparently I've got to meet someone to go over notes before the first big meeting of the new year. Perhaps another time, yeah? Or you know, we could always meet for lunch sometime. I don't know your schedule, but -- "   
  
" -- I'm free at noon today." Emily interjects brightly. Then, a little more subdued, "If you're not busy, that is."   
  
"Sorry," Naomi says gloomily. "We're going straight on until three this afternoon, apparently. They must have gotten caterers."   
  
"Oh," Emily says, her face visibly falling. An instant later though she's smiling. "Well, just -- whenever you can make it, yeah? You don't have to like, call or anything. I always eat lunch at noon at Bluestone. It's not very far from here; you can take a taxi."  
  
Naomi pens it into her Blackberry, makes a note to join Emily for lunch at some point. Sooner, rather than later.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
"You should really meet Emily sometime," Naomi tells Effy when they're in the car, heading up to New Hampshire to stock up on alcohol -- "Tax free," Effy'd said, grinning -- under the pretence of going shopping at the Kittery outlets twenty minutes further up.   
  
Effy lights a fag, inhaling sharply.   
  
"You'd like her, I mean," Naomi says, glancing over her shoulder before changing lanes. "And anyway, she said that she'd really like to meet  _you_. She's given us an open invitation for dinner, if you're ever up for it."   
  
There's the sound of Effy exhaling slowly. "You like her, don't you."   
  
"What?"   
  
"I mean, you get on with her. Best mates now, aren't you."   
  
It's probably not intended to come out sounding so mean, but Naomi flinches at it anyway. "What's wrong with having friends, Ef? It's nice knowing at least  _someone_  in America, aside from the people I work with. And anyway, she's very nice.  _And_  from England, no less."  
  
"It's fucking fate then, is it."   
  
Naomi almost rear-ends the car in front of her trying to switch over into the cash-only toll lane. "What the fuck, Effy," she says, glancing over at her. "All I'm saying is, you should get to know her. And it wouldn't fucking hurt to have dinner with her once, would it?"   
  
Effy doesn't say anything, just flicks what's left of her fag out the window and stares pointedly out at the scenery for the rest of the drive.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
Later, Effy pushes her into the backseat of their car, pressing Naomi down onto the seats with a rough kiss. It's her way of apologizing, Naomi knows, and while she won't say no to Effy's hands slipping up her shirt and cupping her breasts through her thin bra, she also wishes that Effy could just fucking  _talk_  to her sometimes.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
In bed, Effy kisses the top of Naomi's head, curls up next to her, tugging up the sheets.   
  
"You seem distracted," she says, after several long moment, running her fingers up and down Naomi's arm.   
  
"I'm just tired, is all," Naomi says with a sigh, repositioning the pillow behind her head before rolling over onto her side to face Effy, who just stares at her with intense blue eyes. She leans in halfway, lets Effy close the gap between them; Effy kisses her with a softness that Naomi's not quite used to.  
  
"Are  _you_  alright?" She asks, when Effy pulls away, her hand settling on Naomi's hip, thumb brushing absentmindedly across her bare skin. She noses the hair away from Effy's neck, kisses the space where it meets her shoulders. Her hair still smells like the ocean; Naomi finds herself unexpectedly wet at the realization, shifting uncomfortably.   
  
Effy picks up on it immediately of course.   
  
Her hand slides from Naomi's hip to between her thighs, fingers flitting about teasingly.   
  
"Effy," Naomi warns quietly, even as she's rolling once more onto her back and spreading her legs to give Effy greater purchase. This is the problem, she thinks, as Effy leans forward, kissing her neck, fingers stroking lightly against Naomi's clit, not enough to really do anything, and Naomi's just arching up helpless into her touch. The problem is that they never actually  _talk_  about their problems and Naomi _knows_  there's something bothering Effy, but she just can't --  
  
Effy's tongue finds her nipple; Naomi moans softly, grips the sheets with one hand, balling them into a fist; the other tangles itself in Effy's hair, silently urging her on.   
  
"Please," she murmurs, after several agonizingly long moments of Effy doing almost nothing to get her off properly, and Effy smirks in the way that Naomi knows means she's not going to comply, and pulls her hand away, sitting up and straddling Naomi's hips. "Tease," Naomi whimpers, and Effy bends down just enough for their lips to brush together.   
  
When Naomi tries to push into the kiss and deepen it, Effy pulls back, her hands moving forward and covering Naomi's breasts, thumbs brushing against her nipples. "I want to go slow," Effy says, in a very quiet tone, and Naomi can't remember Effy ever wanting to do that; it's always been frantic between them.  
  
"Okay, we'll go slow," she says, and the smirk on Effy's face is replaced by a softer kind of smile. "But, will you please just kiss me?"  
  
Effy, thankfully, honours her request.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
"Sorry for being a tit," Effy says, four days later, in the kitchen making them both french toast. "Work is just -- I mean, I shouldn't have -- well, I think it's good you have a friend, is what I'm trying to say, and -- "  
  
Naomi accidentally knocks over her glass of grape juice getting up and the french toast ends up burning, but she can't help but kiss the hell out of Effy, who she's pretty sure has never actually said the word "sorry" to anyone in her entire life.   
  
  
;;  
  
  
Things are better after that. For a while, anyway.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
  
Naomi gets a call at work.  
  
"It's snowing out," is the first thing Effy says. The second thing is, "I don't want you coming home tonight."  
  
"What the hell?" Naomi asks, standing by the window in the conference room, trying to balance her Blackberry, notebook, binder, and tiny styrofoam cup of coffee all at once. "What the fuck are you talking about?"  
  
"It's fucking snowing," Effy says, in a maddeningly slow way that means she thinks Naomi's being particularly slow-witted. "If you'd bothered to look out the window, you'd see that everything is at a fucking standstill right now. And I don't want you driving home from the train station tonight."   
  
"I  _can_  drive in snow," Naomi says, forcing herself to be patient. "I've done it before."   
  
Effy sighs. "Yes, I've  _seen_  you. It's also not an experience I would like to see repeated."   
  
Naomi forces herself to count to ten, staring pointedly up at the ceiling. Finally, she sighs and says, "Right, then. What do you suggest I do? I don't have enough money on me for a hotel -- and you know I never bring my credit cards with me when I'm going anywhere for a business meeting."   
  
"You're incredibly daft; what about that friend of yours?"   
  
"I don't even know if she's home," Naomi says, glancing over her shoulder as people begin filing back into the room, the lunch break nearly over. "Look, I've got to go. But I'll call you, alright? And I'll call Emily and see if maybe she's got room to put me up for the night."   
  
Effy says, "Have fun," and hangs up.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
She looks Emily's number up on the internet.   
  
She decides first to try her office number, and, failing that, to try and find her home phone number. Thankfully, Emily picks up on the second ring with a, "Hello, Emily Fitch speaking."  
  
"Hey," she says, and then realizes that Emily probably won't recognize her voice, so she adds, "It's me, by the way. Naomi."   
  
"That's strange," Emily says, and Naomi can almost see the amused smirk on her face from the tone of her voice. "I didn't take you for a stalker, what with you tracking down my number and everything."   
  
Naomi laughs. "Right, because it's so hard to find."   
  
Emily chuckles on the other end of the line. "What's up, then? Because I'm assuming you didn't just call me to hear the sound of my voice."   
  
"No, actually. I need your help with something," Naomi says, feeling like a bit of a twat for just imposing on her like this. "Well, right, first thing is, I'm in Worcester, and -- "   
  
"Oh, it's snowing there, isn't it?" Emily interrupts, interested. "The city does look rather lovely in the snow. But, why are you there? Is it a business meeting?"   
  
"Getting to that," Naomi sighs. "Yes, it's a business meeting. It was a rather unusual and, well, unfortunate, change in plans, having it in Worcester instead of Boston like usual, and on a Wednesday no less, but we're taking care of some charity business with St. Vincent's, and well, there you go. Anyway," she says, clearing her throat. "It's snowing out and Effy apparently thinks I'm too daft to drive home from the train station on my own. Which, so we're clear, I'm not. But she appears to be labouring under such a disillusion, so I'm to stay here tonight. Only, I haven't got a place to stay."   
  
A pause.  
  
"So. I suppose you'd like to stay with me then, is that what you're saying?"   
  
Naomi hesitates, but only for a second. "Yes. I mean, if that's alright."   
  
"Of course it is," Emily says agreeably. "As long as you don't mind waiting a bit for me to get home. I mean, I suppose I could cancel my last class -- "   
  
" -- Oh, no, don't. There's no need."   
  
"Right then.Class won't be over until four o'clock and then I won't be on the train until five. Which means I won't actually be in Worcester until after six tonight. I'm guessing that your meeting won't go until then?"   
  
Naomi says, sitting down in the bench in lobby, "Actually, it's over now. But I don't mind waiting. I can get something to eat or whatever. Maybe take a walk around the town and sight see a bit? I  _have_  been told that it looks rather lovely in the snow, after all."   
  
Emily lets out a small laugh. "Well, if it's alright with you . . . "   
  
"It's fine with me. It's  _your_  apartment. I feel like a twat, just calling you out of the blue like this and asking for a favour."   
  
"Trust me, I don't mind," Emily says, and Naomi hangs up with a smile and plans to meet Emily at the train station later that evening.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
The Worcester train station -- or Union Station, as she learns it's called, the name in bright gold letters above the main entrance -- looks even more gorgeous on the inside than expected. She's a bit overwhelmed by the stained glass ceiling and marble pillars; her first thought is that Effy would love this place, would love to be able to shoot it, perhaps in the morning when the sun's just right. She adds _take Effy to Worcester_  to one of her mental To Do lists.  
  
"Naomi!" A familiar voice calls out behind her. Naomi turns; it's Emily, bundled up in a ridiculously over-sized winter jacket, a scarf draped loosely around her neck. She doesn't have her briefcase with her like usual; this time it's a backpack slung casually over one shoulder.   
  
"You sure you've got enough on?" Naomi teases with a raised eyebrow, as Emily walks up to her. "You look like you may be a bit cold, being outside."   
  
"Haha," Emily says, rolling her eyes. "Whatever, at least I'm  _wearing_  a coat."   
  
Naomi looks down at herself, clad in only a dress suit, her scarf and gloves in one hand. "It's Effy's fault, really. She doesn't seem to mind the cold all that much; unfortunately, I've fallen into a similar habit of not wearing as many layers as I should."   
  
She shrugs and Emily grins, shifting her bag to her other shoulder. "Come on then," she says, cocking her head in the direction of the exit.   
  
Outside, it's still snowing; the streetlights reflecting on the snow seem to light up the city, even though Naomi knows elsewhere that it's pitch black outside. Emily strides over to the curb and hails down a taxi. "Sorry," she says, opening the door and motioning for Naomi to get it. "But I don't drive; I'm rubbish at it."   
  
"Effy doesn't drive much either," Naomi says, with another shrug, and Emily leans forward and gives the driver her address.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
The ten minute ride to Emily's apartment is spent in silence.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
"Over there is the Armoury Museum," Emily says matter-of-factly, pointing down the street when she and Naomi are stood on the sidewalk in front of her apartment complex, Emily having paid the taxi driver and now fumbling for her keys. "In case you're, you know, interested. The highway's just a bit up the street, which you could take, if you had a car, since it goes to Framington."  
  
"Maybe I'll visit sometime," Naomi says, surveying the area, most of it now blanketed in snow. "I think Effy said she wanted to shoot here, once. Because of the parks and all."   
  
"Worcester's lovely." Emily leads the way up the steps and through the door. "Every great city has a university; Worcester has ten." She laughs. "I read it on a billboard once. But it's true, isn't it? And while we're on the subject -- there's a college just up the street that has a rather nice fountain; maybe your girlfriend would like to do a bit of photography there."  
  
Naomi brushes the snow off her arms as they get into the lift. "Maybe."  
  
  
;;  
  
  
There's a bookcase shoved over into one corner in Emily's living room, the shelves crammed full of books of every subject and genre. Naomi scans the rows quickly, sees a few names that she recognizes (Dickens, Brontë) and more that she doesn't (Smith, Maguire, Atwood, Cunningham, Waters). On the middle shelves there are pictures scattered along in front of the books, sometimes two or three to a frame, faces crowding out each other.  
  
Over by the corner is a picture in a simple silver frame, one of Emily in her secondary school uniform, her schoolbag at her feet. She's venturing a half-smile at the camera. There's a girl standing beside her, smiling brilliantly and sporting the same uniform and red coloured hair; it takes Naomi a moment to realize that they're mirror images of each other.   
  
"Who's this here?" Naomi asks, picking it up and examining it a bit more closely. "Is this -- is this your sister?"  
  
"Katie," Emily says from somewhere behind her.   
  
"I didn't know you were a twin," Naomi remarks, staring down at another photo of Katie and Emily standing next to each other in front of a small gray house, their bookbags sitting at their feet. "You never mentioned it."  
  
Emily says, "You never asked."   
  
Naomi sets the original photo back on the shelf and turns around to see Emily on the couch, two shot glasses on the table along side a bottle of cinnamon schnapps. She sits down beside Emily, as Emily reaches forward and unscrews the bottle cap, pouring them both a drink.   
  
"Have you ever had these before?" She hands Naomi one of the glasses. Naomi shakes her head. "I prefer peach schnapps actually, but once and a while I like to change it up. This is sweet, though it's still got a bit of a kick to it. But it's only the mild kind, so it shouldn't be too bad."   
  
Naomi shrugs. "What the fuck, let's give it a go."   
  
She barely tastes it when she tips her head and throws her drink back, but it settles heavily in her stomach, warm, burning a bit. She licks her lips, surprised that she's already beginning to feel a bit buzzed. "Not bad," she says, when Emily looks at her expectantly and Emily smiles widely and pours them both another shot.   
  
Four shots in, she's starting to feel a bit lighter.   
  
After the fifth shot, she says, "Your hair was different back then. I mean like, in that picture. It was brighter."   
  
"That was Katie's idea," Emily says, slouching a bit in her seat. "We got it done first when we were -- fuck, I can't even remember --  _twelve_. I can't believe our parents let us get away with it. Anyway, we kept it that colour right up through high school. And well, when I got a job, I had to start dying it a bit darker. Professionalism and all that," she says, leaning forward and pouring herself another shot.   
  
"And what about Katie?" Naomi asks, reaching for the bottle as well. "Does she still have the same candy red hair?"   
  
A pause, and then, "I don't know, actually." Emily sounds rather sad when she says it and even slightly pissed, Naomi can tell that it's not a subject she wants to be discussing right now. Or ever, possibly, and Naomi's suddenly reminded of that one time on the train Emily'd mentioned her family and had gotten that same sad look in her eyes.  
  
Naomi sighs heavily and sprawls out on the couch next to her, downing her shot and putting the glass back on the table with a heavy click. "Got anything else then," she says, and Emily gets up and head into the kitchen; Naomi listens to the sounds of her going through the cabinets.   
  
Emily returns a moment later with a bottle of vodka."This is it, I'm afraid," she says, handing the bottle over to Naomi. "I've got some stuff to mix it with, if you'd like. Or we can just drink it straight." She shrugs. "I don't particularly care one way or the other."   
  
"Oh, let's just do it straight," Naomi says good naturedly, pouring them both a shot.   
  
Emily takes her shot with a wink and a grin, licking her lips. "Fucking hell. I haven't gotten proper pissed with anyone in  _forever_." She pours herself two more shots, downs them both in quick succession.  
  
"Easy now," Naomi laughs, reaching for the bottle. "Let me catch up, yeah?"  
  
  
;;  
  
  
Thirty minutes later and more than a dozen shots between them, Naomi's tanked.   
  
It makes her feel a little bit better knowing that Emily is too; she's on the floor on and Emily's still on the couch, telling a story about how back when she was in Literature class freshman year at college, one of the girls had been absolutely convinced that journalism school did not exist.   
  
"No, really, I'm totally fucking serious," Emily slurs cheerfully, and Naomi laughs, holding onto the coffee table for support. "The teacher had to like, Google bloody  _journalism school_  for her, just to prove that she was wrong."   
  
"Jesus," Naomi says, shaking her head and running her fingers through her hair. "How fucking daft was this girl?"   
  
"Very very very," Emily giggles, and reaches for the bottle of schnapps, drinking straight from it.   
  
"So," Naomi drawls, leaning back against the couch. "You've never said, what made you stick around here, Miss Emily Fitch, when you could have gone back to London after you'd finished your schooling. Surely Worcester's not all  _that_  amazing."   
  
Emily's quiet for several long moments and it's obvious that Naomi's struck a nerve, from how the smile slips from Emily's face and she takes another shot before answering.  
  
"Katie and me -- we, well. We had a falling out of sorts," she says at last, and she looks terribly sad all over again, just like earlier. And it's probably the alcohol, Naomi thinks, but she's suddenly overcome with the desire to brush the hair out of Emily's eyes and squeeze her tightly, just to get her to stop looking like that. She doesn't, of course, because it would be ridiculous, but the feeling is nearly overwhelming.   
  
"Come on," she says brightly, and Emily looks up from her glass. "We've still got loads of alcohol left, and," Naomi glances at her watch, "it's not nearly time to be going to bed just yet. So let's just forget about, you know, whatever." She gestures vaguely with her hands, spilling a bit of schnapps on her trousers.   
  
The smile is back on Emily's face almost instantly. "Alright," she says. "Yeah, alright."   
  
"So," Naomi says, taking another shot. "Tell me something about you."  
  
Emily laughs. "What is there to tell?"   
  
"Well, I don't know. Tell me about that girlfriend of yours. You know, the last one you had before Christmas. What was that all about?"   
  
"Oh Jesus," Emily says, covering her face with her hands, flushing a bit. "It was a terrible mistake, is what it was. I wanted something casual, you know? But I mean, well, I didn't mean that I wanted her sleeping around with other girls, which was apparently  _her_  definition of a casual relationship, and it, it just did not work out between us. Girls," she sighs, stealing the bottle back from Naomi. "I think they're more trouble than they're worth sometimes, you know?"   
  
It's Naomi's turn to flush. "I don't really, no," she says, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I mean, Effy's the only girl I've ever been with."   
  
"Honestly?" Emily asks, sounding impressed. "Fucking hell, I wish I could say the same thing. It must be nice."  
  
"It," Naomi starts, unsure. "Yeah, it is. I mean, honestly, I can't believe it's worked out as well as it has."  
  
"Lucky," Emily sighs, slumping back on the couch, one foot resting up on the coffee table. She arches up with a groan, stretching, and Naomi can't help but notice the small patch of exposed skin of her stomach, how pale it is. Soft, too, she thinks, and it's a thought that comes completely out of nowhere, wondering how it would feel under her hands.  
  
Emily yawns and closes her eyes for a moment, head resting back against the couch pillows, hair falling around her shoulders.  
  
And almost just as suddenly and unexpectedly as before, Naomi's struck by the redness of Emily's hair, how it looks in the light, and she's reminded of eating cherries once with Effy, the way the juice had stained their fingers. It's that sort of red, she concludes, almost laughs at that thought. Emily looks over at her, lounging back against the couch's armrest, offers her a lazy smile.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm sorry," Naomi says, and then she  _does_  laugh, the alcohol making her head spin. "It's just -- I really shouldn't be saying -- well, I think you're rather pretty. Like, your hair's just this brilliant red colour. Like fire. I just want to -- " she sits up on her knees and reaches over, brushing Emily's fringe away from her eyes, fingers lingering for a moment on her cheek before she pulls away.  
  
"You're very drunk," Emily remarks, not unkindly.  
  
"Not really," Naomi says, tries to stand; she fails miserably, her legs giving out under her and stumbling back down onto the couch. "Okay, maybe a little, then. But I'm not as drunk as you think I am."  
  
Emily smirks, propping her chin up on the back of her hand. "Really."  
  
"Yeah," Naomi nods, the bottle of vodka long forgotten.  
  
They sit in a comfortable silence for a long time.  
  
Finally, pushing herself up off the couch, Emily says, "It's late. And you have to get up early tomorrow. As do I."  
  
She leans down to collect the glasses and near-empty bottles of alcohol. Naomi struggles to her feet, murmuring a "Here, let me," and Emily backs off a bit and allows her to help. She hands Naomi one of the bottles, and for the smallest of moments their fingers brush together; there's something that stirs in Naomi then, something she can't give name to. And then Emily says, "Come on then," leading the way into the kitchen, and it's forgotten just as quickly.  
  
Emily washes the glasses out in the sink, running them under luke warm water and shaking them dry. Naomi sets the bottles down on the counter beside her, leaning back against it with a sigh. The glasses go into the cupboard; Emily reaches for the bottles next, moves away to the other side of the kitchen.  
  
Naomi says, "Hang on, I've got it," when she sees Emily struggling to put away the alcohol on a shelf that's much to high for her to reach, especially when pissed. Naomi steps behind her, takes one of the bottles from her gently. Emily's hair smells like lilacs; it's so unexpected and strong that Naomi almost drops the bottle she's holding. She inhales sharply, tries to steady herself.  
  
"You alright?" Emily asks, and turns in front of her, with a half-smile, her eyes wide and bright, and Naomi can see the smallest of flushes across her face, can see the way Emily's eyes are such a dark mahogany like colour, and it's just --  
  
Her body seems to move of its own accord; she reaches froward, brushes Emily's fringe out of her eyes.  
  
"Oh," Emily says, very, very quietly.  
  
It's not what she means to do at all. She  _means_  to step away, to tell Emily that she's tired and wants to get some sleep. She  _means_  to text Effy and let her know that she'll be leaving first thing for the train station tomorrow. She means to do a lot of things, so of course she does the one thing that she  _shouldn't_  do:  
  
She leans in and kisses Emily, very slowly.  
  
The other bottle falls from Emily's hand; it hits the floor with a sharp  _ting_  sound, and somewhere in the back of her mind Naomi can hear it crack and shatter into pieces, the liquor splattering across her feet and ankles, but her head's spinning from having too much to drink and all she can think about is Emily's lips against hers and then Emily's body pressed against hers, when Emily takes a step forward, her hands going around Naomi's waist, nails digging into her back through her blouse.  
  
"Fuck," Emily murmurs, pulling away. "Fuck fuck fuck."  
  
"I know," Naomi says, and it's all it takes for Emily to kiss her again.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
It's too much.  
  
They can't even bring themselves to move, end up falling to the kitchen floor, and Naomi can feel one of her feet resting in a puddle of vodka, but she's more aware of Emily's hand sliding up her blouse and cupping her breasts through her bra. And then Emily leans up and kisses her roughly, biting down on Naomi's bottom lip almost hard enough to make it bleed, and it's all so fucked up, but she can't seem to pull herself away.  
  
 _Fuckfuckfuck_ , she thinks, even as her hand is inching up under Emily's skirt.  
  
Naomi thinks maybe she should say something.  
  
"Don't," Emily murmurs when she opens her mouth to speak, pulling Naomi down by her shoulders and kissing her until they're both breathless. "Just, please -- " Emily groans, her fingers threading through Naomi's hair, and it's not what she intended at all, Naomi thinks; she never expected -- or  _wanted_  even, she doesn't think, but she's not sure, maybe she  _did_  -- this to happen.  
  
But then Emily's hand slips into her bra, fingers brushing against her nipple, and she can't think of anything else.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
Naomi wakes up the next morning to the sound of the alarm on her Blackberry going off. She sits up and groans, already feeling a pounding headache coming on, her whole body aching, and she realizes that she's lying on the kitchen floor. It takes a moment for the evening to coming rushing back to her: getting drunk with Emily in her living room; kissing Emily in the kitchen;  _fucking_  Emily in the kitchen --  
  
\-- She feels like she's going to toss.  
  
She runs to the bathroom and throws up. She wipes her mouth with a shaky hand, her throat sore, her head aching. When she catches her breath, she washes up in the sink, splashing cold water onto her face and running her fingers through her hair, eventually finding a comb in the medicine cabinet and fixing it to look a little more presentable. She almost throws up again, when her stomach sloshes uneasily; instead she cups some water into her hands, bending down and drinking it in thirstily.  
  
It's not enough; her mouth is still dry and tasting of vomit.  
  
Emily's still passed out on the floor in the kitchen, wearing her skirt and bra. Her shirt and knickers lie in a crumbled heap beside the refrigerator. Naomi finds her own top and pants and trousers kicked over into a corner near the sink; she retrieves them silently, pulling them on and smoothing her hands down over the front of them so that they don't look quite as wrinkled. She turns back to Emily, staring down at her, and despite herself, she can't help but think about how different Emily looks when she's asleep, all soft and small looking. So unguarded and open.  
  
Naomi hesitates before crouching down and patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. "Hey," she says quietly, repeats it once or twice more before Emily stirs, her eyes fluttering open. Naomi's own initial confusion is reflected in her eyes, until a second passes and Emily sits up quickly, crossing her arms over her chest, blushing madly.  
  
"Shit.  _Shit_. Did we -- ?"  
  
"Yes," Naomi says grimly, already beginning to feel terribly guilty, and Emily reaches over for her top and tugs it on quickly, even though it's inside out.  
  
Naomi takes a step back when Emily struggles up into a standing position, leaning heavily on the counter for support. She doesn't know what to say, doesn't even know if she  _can_  say anything, because she's certainly never been in this kind of situation before, and it's all just too real and overwhelming.  
  
"Sorry," she says, and fucking hell, she can't even bring herself to look Emily in the eye when she says it. "I'm sorry, I -- this isn't what I meant -- look, I've got to go, alright, Effy's expecting me at home."  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Emily wince at the mention of Effy's name, but Emily doesn't say anything, and she certainly doesn't call after her when Naomi turns to leave. Her bag and scarf and shoes are still at the front door; she gathers her things together quickly, slipping into her shoes, draping her scarf loosely around her neck. Her bag feels unusually heavy when she swings it over her shoulder. She thinks maybe she should go back and say something --  _anything_  -- but the feeling of being sick is there again and she just  _can't_.  
  
The door closes shut behind her with an unusually loud bang and she's not sure whether she's relieved or disappointed when Emily doesn't chase after her down the hall.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
Effy answers the phone with a "What's wrong?"  
  
Naomi nearly trips walking up the steps at the entrance to Union Station. "Nothing's  _wrong_ ," she says hastily, and tries to collect herself, snow getting into her shoes and soaking through her soaks. "I'm just calling to let you know that I'm at the train station here in Worcester and that I should be getting home in about a half an hour or so."  
  
"I'm skipping work today -- it looks gorgeous here with the snow, I want to take some photos-- I'll probably still be at home when you get back. How was last night?"  
  
Wincing at the question, Naomi says quickly, "It was fine. I got a bit pissed. Sorry. I've got a massive hangover this morning."  
  
"Just come home."  
  
It comes out sounding a bit shorter than Effy probably intended and Naomi has to remind herself that it's still early and Effy doesn't usually start talking until eight o'clock or so, after she's showered and had at least a cup of coffee. It's a bit jarring, to realize only now that they've settled into a routine; it's strange, looking at things from the outside in, because she's never  _not_  been with Effy.  
  
"Yeah, alright," she mumbles. "I'll call you when I get to the station, yeah?"  
  
Effy hangs up silently.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
It comes back to her in flashes, and always at the worst times. Stroking Effy's hair in the early morning, kissing her shoulder, Naomi remembers Emily undoing the buckle on her belt, the silver metal flashing in the dim fluorescent lighting of the kitchen; her mouth on Emily's neck, biting down hard enough to leave marks. And then there is the time when she's sitting in her car on her way to the office, on a very idle Wednesday, when she thinks of Emily's fingers dancing up her thigh, fingers hooking into the elastic waistband of her knickers and tugging them down.  
  
During a late afternoon meeting on the same day, the memory of Emily below her, panting, sweaty and flushed and straining against her fingers catches her completely off guard and she has to quickly excuse herself to go to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and hide the crimson blush on her cheeks, her heart racing.  
  
The worst part is, she thinks, is that she can't avoid Emily for forever. Eventually they're going to run into each other, and she can pretty much count on it being sooner rather than later. Naomi briefly considers just not saying anything, when the eventual running into  _does_  happen, just pretending like it never happened. It almost seems like a good idea -- for about two seconds, anyway, before Naomi realizes that that would be something she'd do in fucking  _secondary school_ , and it's not the right way to go about things at all.  
  
She doesn't know what the  _right_  thing to do is, though, and that's the problem.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
Emily sits down beside her in the empty seat on the train, two Fridays later, and it's terribly awkward, but more so because Emily doesn't actually say anything, just sits right next to her staring down at her hands the whole time. Naomi can't help but feel like she's being trapped somehow and finally she can't stand it anymore, this silence between them.  
  
"I'm  _not_  like that," she says, and Emily looks up at her, startled. "I mean, I'm not a cheater," Naomi clarifies, finds herself stupidly blushing at her own statement. "I mean, well, what happened before -- it's not going to happen again, yeah? We were just drunk and, and, things got a little -- well, I'm not saying that I don't want to be your  _friend_ , mind, I think you're quite nice, but that's as far as it goes, okay? So don't think that I'm like . . . Like I said, don't think it'll happen again."  
  
Several long moments pass before Emily sighs and settles back against the seat. "Yeah, alright," she says at last, and flashes Naomi a weak smile. "Just friends, then," she says, but when she reaches forward and rests her hand on Naomi's, it feels a bit too heavy, and when she squeezes it reassuringly, Naomi's throat closes up.  
  
It's dangerous, she thinks. To feel like this.


	3. Safe Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I read you all wrong; I thought you were a safe bet._

 

Here's the problem: nothing changes.

She takes the train into Boston every Friday. Sometimes she sees Emily in the morning, though usually it's only in the afternoons when they're taking the same train. Emily sits next to her, like always, and it's not quite as awkward as Naomi expected it to be, except for the times when they lapse into silence, and it's so heavy sometimes that Naomi feels like she's going to just fucking _burst_ from keeping everything all bottled up inside. But of course, she doesn't say this; they don't talk about what happened, not ever. And even though it's that thing they don't speak of, Naomi's sure that Emily feels just as conflicted about it as she does; there are times when Emily opens her mouth to speak and Naomi's _certain_ that they're finally going to break this self-imposed silence, but then Emily will start talking about something else, and it'll all go straight to hell.

Naomi wishes Emily would just tell her to fuck off, almost, because then at least she wouldn't feel like this any longer.

Effy, for her part, makes things worse, by being either completely unaware or knowing and hiding it infuriatingly well. She isn't sure how Effy _would_ know, because she wasn't even home when Naomi'd arrived back, and by that time Naomi'd showered and thrown her clothes in the wash, but Effy has always possessed an uncanny ability to know things that others wouldn't ever pick up on. Effy knew Naomi better than Naomi knew herself; Effy could always see right through her. Naomi thinks back to their university years, when she'd adamantly protested, for all of five seconds, that she didn't like girls, before Effy'd given her a look that completely levelled her and called her out on her bullshit.

They'd made love when Effy'd arrived home, stamping her boots off at the front door and shrugging out of her thin coat. She'd been amazingly lucky, in that Emily'd managed to not leave any marks, Naomi thought, as Effy pushed her back down onto the bed, just as lucky as the fact that her and Effy's lovemaking was usually fairly rough anyway, so at least a few faint scratch marks wouldn't arouse any suspicion.

Naomi'd come hard, Effy's tongue quick and incessant against her clit, and somehow she managed not to think of Emily once during the whole two hours they spent in bed, dozing on and off in the warm noon-day sun.

 

;;

 

"Are we ever going to talk about this?" Naomi finally asks one day, while they're waiting for the train to leave the Boston station.

Emily's got her reading glasses on, a red ballpoint pen tucked behind one ear, squinting at an essay containing some rather illegible handwriting. "About what," she says in an annoyed voice, and it's almost enough to make Naomi shut up and not say anything more, but there's really no sense in trying to avoid this any longer.

"Us," she says at last, after several long minutes have passed in silence.

"There is no _us_." Emily reaches for her pen, scribbles something furiously in the margins with a frown. "I thought we'd agreed that it was a one-off. Just a stupid, drunken mistake. I think it'd be best to just leave it at that and move on, don't you? Besides," she adds, turning the page, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, neither do _I_ ," Naomi snaps back, a shade too loudly; it earns her curious looks from an elderly couple sitting two seats up and across. "It's not exactly my favourite topic either," she continues, in a low tone. "But we sort of have to."

"No, we don't."

"You don't fucking get it, do you," Naomi says, growing more agitated by the minute. "What happened -- it's all I ever fucking think about nowadays. I can't even go a whole day without remembering something that was said or, or the way your hair looked in the light or how you smelled of like, I don't know, fucking schnapps, of all things."

Emily's pen stills mid-sentence. "I can't do this," she says with a shaky voice. "It's -- it's not right, okay? You're not mine to have, and I'm not yours. So please just drop it."

"But, I -- "

"Look," Emily says angrily, shoving her papers together and stuffing them into her bag. " _You_ were the one who said we should just be friends, just like you were the one who said it didn't mean anything. So, just stop. Stop changing your mind and saying these sort of things and trying to make me feel worse than I already do."

She grabs her things and moves down to the other end of the car before Naomi can say anything else.

 

;;

 

Naomi can't remember being friends with Effy.

They were never really _friends_ , Naomi thinks. There was always something else there, lurking under the surface, just waiting for one of them to see the truth. Naomi thinks back to parties with Effy, of that first drunken kiss in a bedroom, to their second kiss on a park bench, years later. Effy always tasted of cigarettes and alcohol. Naomi remembers university, sitting beside Effy on the green, smoking, somehow always managing to resist the urge to grab Effy's hand.

And then there had been the times _after_ university, when they'd moved in together in a flat in London, when Effy'd covered their bedroom walls with photos that told a story of their slow transgression from nothingness to something real and tangible. They'd never really been friends. They were strangers, then lovers. There was no real in-between for them.

She surprises Effy with a new camera for their anniversary.

Effy kisses her right there in the restaurant, in an unusual display of public affection, knitting her fingers into the front of Naomi's pale blue blouse and pulling her in roughly. And it feels like, maybe, they could really make this work forever, even with Effy's silences and Naomi's travels and with Emily. Emily, who's never entirely gone from Naomi's thoughts, who creeps in sometimes and makes her lose all sense of self entirely.

Emily, who's managed to upset her whole world without even trying.

And it's now that Naomi realises that she liked things before, when they weren't so complicated.

 

;;

 

She tries again.

"I'm not good with these sort of things, okay?" she says. "But I want to be. I mean, I want to try and make things work."

"Alright," Emily sighs, and invites her out to coffee with a cautious smile.

 

;;

 

"What happened?" Naomi asks one day, while they're sitting on a bench by the harbour in South Boston, eating lunch. "I mean," she says, stabbing her fork into her garden salad, "with you and Katie."

Emily takes a long swallow of water, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "Who said anything happened?"

"Sorry, I just -- well, I thought that maybe -- "

"Don't worry," Emily says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You're right, anyway. But it -- it was a long time ago."

Naomi sets down her fork. "Please don't feel obligated to say something just because I asked. I was just being curious; I understand if it's still a bit of a touchy subject and you don't want to talk about it."

"No, it's fine," Emily stares down at the half-eaten turkey sandwich on her lap. "Like I said, it was a long time ago. Katie and I were -- well, it was a year or two after we moved to America, so it was the summer of my senior year in high school. We went to this party of friend of hers and I got a bit -- well, more than a _bit_ \-- drunk and ended up snogging one of the girls in my AP US History class that I'd fancied for months. We were in the upstairs bedroom and Katie . . . Katie walked in on us. She didn't really -- well, let's just say, she didn't exactly have the best reaction."

"I'm sorry," Naomi offers quietly.

Emily sniffs, flashes Naomi a weak smile. "Don't be. I'd never expected her to be okay with it -- me being gay, that is -- so it didn't come as a huge shock, the way she acted. Anyway, I lied at the time; I told her that I was drunk and whatever and that it was just an accident. I don't think she ever really believed me, but things were okay for a while then. She didn't say anything to our Mum and Dad about it. But when we went off to college, I decided that enough was enough, and just came out and told her the truth. And, well, you can just imagine the rest. Needless to say, it wasn't the most pleasant experience of my life."

Naomi rubs her arm in an awkward attempt to be comforting; it earns her another small smile from Emily.

"Anyway," Emily says after a moment and swipes quickly at her eyes. "Anyway, long story short: we don't talk any more. She fucked off back to England with the rest of my family when I was still in college. I haven't heard from her since I was twenty."

Naomi frowns. "You haven't tried to work things out, then?"

"Kind of hard to do with her not speaking to me," Emily laughs bitterly.

"Well, I just mean -- I don't know," Naomi says, suddenly flustered. "I just, well. Don't you think maybe it would be good to try again? I mean, it's been almost ten years, yeah? Surely she's had enough to time to think about the whole thing -- everything you said. Maybe she's willing to try again, to try and like, repair your relationship."

Emily snorts. "Unlikely. Besides, if Katie really _did_ care that much, she'd be calling _me_. "

"Maybe she's afraid."

"Of what?" Emily frowns. "Anyway, why the fuck are you defending her at all? You don't know Katie at _all_ \-- you barely know _me_."

"I'm not _defending_ her," Naomi tells her quietly. "I just think it's sad, is all. What happened between you. I'm an only child, so I can't imagine what it's like to have a sister. But it must hurt, yeah? That she seems to have stopped loving you over something like this. I just want to help."

Emily's shoulders slump. "You're right," she says. "I didn't mean to -- "

"It's fine."

"I snapped at you, when you were just trying to be nice."

"Like I said, it's fine." Naomi pats her on the wrist. "Honestly, Emily."

They eat the rest of their lunch in silence; Emily gets up and tosses her rubbish out in the bin a few feet away, wiping her hands on the front of her trousers. Naomi stretches and stands up as well, tossing what's left of her salad into the bin. She runs a hand through her hair with a sigh before checking her watch.

"Christ, it's nearly one already. I've got to be getting back."

"I'll walk with you, if you want," Emily offers, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. "I'm off for the rest of the day anyway, so it won't be a bother."

"Why don't you just go home?" Naomi asks, as they stride along the green towards the pavement.

"Because," Emily says, glancing up at the sky. "I like taking the train home with you. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it," she says with a faint blush, after Naomi doesn't respond. "Sorry."

"Don't be; it's not odd at all, really." Naomi smiles at her. "I like taking the train home with you as well."

Emily remarks, a bit later, when they're stood at the street corner across from South Station, waiting for the light to change, "We're doing alright at this, aren't we? Being friends, I mean."

"Yeah," Naomi agrees quietly, watching the cars fly pass. "We are."

With a sigh and a smile, Emily's arm snakes around her waist in a half-hug. With anyone else, Naomi thinks, it'd be nothing but a friendly gesture, but it feels like _more_ here, and it's too fucking much, Emily's arm around her. She thinks she should pull away -- _wants_ to, because it's just not right -- but she feels stuck, somehow, just frozen to the spot, unable to move at all.

When the light changes, it's like waking from a dream; she jerks away quickly and strides off before Emily can say anything.

 

;;

 

"Effy," Naomi says one Sunday afternoon, when they're out for a walk to take in the new snow from last night. "If you were unhappy here, you'd say something, right?"

Effy kicks at a clump of snow on the edge of the pavement and keeps on walking.

"Come on now, Effy," Naomi says, quickening her pace a bit and catching her by the arm. "I'm being serious here. I know that things have been a bit difficult, moving here. And alright, maybe things have changed a bit too -- "

"Do you think so?" Effy says, in a maddeningly even tone, eyes trained down at the snow.

" -- But I care about you, okay? And if things aren't working out, I want you to _tell_ me. Effy. You would tell me, wouldn't you? If you were unhappy?"

There's a rustle of fabric, as Effy reaches into the pocket of her thin coat, pulls out a fag and a pack of matches. The striking of the match seems very loud in the sudden silence between them, even with the sounds of Main Street surrounding them; the growl of engines as cars cautiously navigate their way through the icy streets, the buzz of conversation from couples and groups and singles on mobile phones walking down the street, coming in and out of shops and restaurants.

Finally, Effy says, after blowing a set of lazy smoke rings into the chill February air, "Why would I be unhappy?"

Naomi looks down at her trainers. She can feel the snow soaking through to her socks, feet wet and cold. "I dunno. I'm just saying, -- "

"Saying what, though," Effy says, inhaling deeply.

Naomi shrugs her shoulders helplessly.

"I want to get a shot of that bench," Effy says after a moment, already focused on something else, hands on her camera. "Look at it, in the early morning sunlight. The snow's completely untouched." They cross the street; Effy squats down and snaps half a dozen photos. She straightens and shoots another half-dozen or so, before finally lowering her camera. "It's beautiful, isn't it."

"It is," Naomi agrees.

"This is its moment now, for it to be beautiful. And I've saved it. When we come back here again, it won't look like this. It'll be ruined. Beautiful in its own way, though. Ruined things always are."

"Come here," Naomi says quietly, and pulls Effy into her arms and kisses her very gently, Effy's camera digging into her rib cage.

 

;;

 

At the end of February, Naomi gets asked if she'd like her office to be moved to the headquarters in Boston.

She says yes without even thinking about it. It takes her a good long while for her to realise this, longer still to realise that in bringing herself closer to Emily, she's started to push herself further from Effy. The thought makes her stomach flip-flop and she runs to the bathroom and throws up.

 

;;

 

Effy, of course, is neutral about the whole thing. "You like Boston, yeah, so it'll be good for you," she says, and that's that.

At night, Effy presses her down roughly against the mattress, one hand pinning Naomi's wrists to the pillows up and above her head, another one clamped down tightly over Naomi's mouth, rocking back on Naomi's thigh until she comes with a small, violent shudder.

"I love you, you know," Naomi whispers into her hair (which smells like cherries and reminds Naomi of a summer spent in Effy's garden, getting spliffed and eating fruit, the juice dribbling down their chins), arms wrapping around her middle tightly, hands and fingers linking where they meet.

"Yeah," Effy murmurs, finger trailing along Naomi's knuckles. "I know."

 

;;

 

"You should bring Effy over sometime," Emily says one afternoon, completely out of the blue.

"Why would you want that?" Naomi asks, kicking a rock along the cobblestoned street.

Emily shrugs. "Why not? She sounds nice enough and if she's good enough to have captured _your_ attention and affection -- and for so long -- she must be pretty special. You and her should come down to Worcester sometime, like I've been saying."

"I don't know."

"Ask her."

"It isn't quite that simple, Emily," Naomi tells her, sticking her hands into her pocket, as they stop in front of Cold Stone, digging around for her wallet as Emily opens the door for them. "Effy doesn't always -- well, she doesn't always say what's on her mind, so to speak. She can be very . . . she doesn't really open up a lot and let her true feelings show."

"It sounds like she's perfect for you, then, isn't she," Emily remarks rather meanly, as they get into line. "Fine, then. _You_ should come down to Worcester sometime and visit. I want to take you around the city."

Naomi's mind flashes back to the last time she was at Emily's apartment, waking up on the floor half-naked and with a terrible hangover and a stomach full of guilt. "Maybe. I don't think that'd be such a great idea, given our past history."

"I thought it was a one-off." Emily's annoyed now.

"It was." The line moves forward some. "But we can't just forget about it, you know? The fact that it happened -- well, I just don't think it'd be a good idea. Okay? Anyway," she says lightly, "there's no reason you couldn't take the train up to Framingham one weekend. I'm sure Effy wouldn't be averse to the idea of us having guests."

"Yeah, well, we'll see," Emily says coolly, and they don't talk for the rest of the hour, sitting at a table near the window looking out onto the street and eating their ice creams in silence.

 

;;

 

One Monday afternoon, on the train, Emily says, "Do you ever wonder what things would be like if we'd never met?"

"All the time," Naomi confesses, staring pointedly out the window.

"I don't think I like the idea of never knowing you," Emily says quietly, after a time, and she sounds so tired and unhappy that Naomi's heart clenches with a sudden fear. She reaches out and takes Emily's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, not letting go until they get to her stop.

 

;;

 

They meet for coffee, in a little cafe three blocks down from Naomi's office.

"What's up?" Naomi asks, taking the lid off her styrofoam cup and blowing the the coffee gently.

"Nothing up," Emily says, dumping five packets of sugar into her drink, stirring it idly. "I just wanted to see you, is all."

Naomi frowns. "Emily."

"What?" Emily asks, looking up. "Oh, do _not_ start in on me about that, Naomi. You know what I meant. There's nothing wrong with friends wanting to see each other. Spare me the lecture."

"Well, you sort of _need_ one, don't you? I don't know how many fucking times we've gone over this."

" _You're_ the one who keeps bringing that fucking night up," Emily snaps. "I fucking _get_ it, okay? _You're_ the one who can't seem to get over it."

"No, it's just the only one of us that's mature enough to actually try and _deal_ with it," Naomi counters, angrily. "I'm not fucking like you, okay? I can't just sit around and pretend everything's fine when it's not. What happened -- it changed _everything_."

"Right, because my life's so bloody easy," Emily says, tears springing to her eyes. "Sorry for ruining your perfect fucking world and, and, your perfect fucking relationship by caring about you."

"Well, maybe you could try caring a bit fucking _less_."

"Fuck you," Emily sniffs, gathering her coat and purse together in one swift, violent motion, almost knocking her cup of coffee over in the process. "Just, _fuck you_ , Naomi Campbell."

She storms off, banging open the cafe door and almost knocking the little bell above it clear off it's holder.

Naomi chases after her.

"Emily, " she calls out, struggling to put on her coat. "Emily, wait. Please. I just want to say -- "

Emily stops, whirls around.

"Why are you doing this?" She asks in a quiet, hurt voice. "You-you pull away every time I try and get close to you. But then you go ahead and say something like that, and, and . . ." she trails off, wipes at her eyes with a frown. "You don't get to do this, okay? Break my heart."

"I -- " Naomi starts to say. She steadies herself, tries again. "I fucking want you, okay? But it's just -- this is so fucking _wrong_ Emily, and I just can't -- "

Emily cuts her off by grabbing the front of her jacket and crushing their lips together.

It's everything that kissing Effy is not: hot and sweet and fireworks and lust all at once. Emily tastes like strawberries and Coke and it's the sweetest thing Naomi can ever think of tasting. It's too much and not enough all at once. And it's crazy, Naomi thinks, to feel like this, as she pushes back into the kiss, hands settling heavily on Emily's waist, fingers digging into the fabric of her top.

When they break apart, Emily doesn't let go of her; she clings to Naomi with the same desperation that Naomi feels within her, the kind that cuts across her heart and makes her feel like the world is ending. And then Emily just looks up at her, with soft, longing brown eyes, and it's just too much.

(It will always be too much, Emily.)

"I . . . _can't_ ," Naomi says, pulls away from Emily's grasp, and she knows it's the wrong thing to say even as the words start to tumble out of her mouth."Please," she says, even as Emily's eyes begin to well up with tears. "Please, you have to understand. This isn't easy. I can't just -- "

"I _know_. Don't you get that? I _know_ you, Naomi."

"Then why can't you just fucking let me be?" Naomi starts to cry. "I don't want this. I _do_ want this. I don't even fucking know what I want! Don't you see? No matter what, I end up hurting someone."

Emily kicks at the pavement, swipes at her eyes. "Then why don't you just fucking _go_ then?"

And because it's the only thing that makes sense to do, Naomi turns and runs.

 

;;

 

They don't speak for two weeks.

It takes one week for Naomi to start calling; Emily doesn't answer the phone. Naomi considers leaving a message on her voicemail, then decides the better of it, thinks that Emily would probably just delete it without listening to it anyway.

 

;;

 

In bed, Effy asks her if she's alright.

When Naomi doesn't answer, Effy kisses her once before sliding down, tongue moving in sharp, strong strokes until Naomi's trembling beneath her. It's only during this that she, for however briefly, is not reminded of Emily; it's at times like these when she remembers how very different Emily and Effy are.

 

;;

 

On Friday of the second week, Emily finally picks up.

"So." Her voice on the other end of the line is flat and even. "What do you want?"

"I'm just calling to apologise," Naomi says, cradling her phone between her shoulder and ear as she lights up, tossing the match aside.

Emily sighs."It's fine, Naomi. It was probably mostly my fault, anyway. Katie always said that I was too fucking emotional. I guess that's rather obvious now, isn't it."

"I think we should go out," Naomi jumps in, then flushes involuntarily. "I mean, not on a _date_ necessarily. Just, you know, dinner. As friends. Anyway, I want to do it; consider it a thank you gift for being the one person in Boston who's actually bothered to give a fuck about me."

"I'm sure I'm not the only one," Emily says, and it sounds to Naomi like she's smiling on the other end. "But, alright. I accept."

 

;;

 

Naomi dials Effy, who doesn't answer her mobile or her office phone.

Effy rings her up five minutes later. "I was in a meeting. What is it?"

"I invited Emily out to dinner," Naomi says. "For tonight, I mean. I figured I owe it to her a bit, you know? For being such a good friend, and I know you're planning on staying late at work tonight to finish up for the deadline anyway, so I assumed it wouldn't be a problem."

"Do whatever," Effy says, and Naomi can hear the heavy click of a lighter on the other end.

"I'll be back by eleven," she says.

"Have fun," Effy says, and hangs up without another word.

 

;;

 

Emily's at the bar nursing a strawberry daiquiri when Naomi arrives, fifteen minutes late.

"Sorry," she sighs, shrugging off her coat and folding it over her arm, sliding into the empty seat beside Emily.

"Want a drink?"

"Just a vodka," Naomi says, and moments later a glass is plunked down beside her. Naomi flashes an appreciative smile towards the bartender, before downing her drink in one go. She orders another drink; Emily glances over at her.

"You alright?"

"Of course," Naomi says, running her finger around the edge of her glass lazily. "I'm just tired, is all. And a bit stressed because of work, but you know how it is. And Effy -- "

"I don't want to talk about Effy, please."

They lapse into silence. Naomi finishes off her drink, opts instead to follow it up with a glass of water instead of another round of vodka, if only because she doesn't want to come home pissed and have Effy wonder what she's been up to. Effy wouldn't say anything, of course, but she'd wonder -- or _know_ , probably, because Effy always seemed to be able to work out the impossible and unsaid -- and Naomi winces at the thought of how Effy would look at her.

"You look nice," Naomi ventures, because Emily's been unnervingly quiet this whole evening so far.

Emily brightens a little at that. "Really? Thanks. You look . . . well, you look lovely." She flushes some at the last bit, and Naomi relaxes, reaches forward and intertwines Emily's fingers with hers, thumb stroking slowly along the back of Emily's hand.

"Sorry I was late."

"It's fine," Emily waves her hand dismissively. "I got here early, anyway."

"Still," Naomi insists, "I should have called and let you know or something. I mean -- "

"Naomi," Emily says, in a quiet voice, and suddenly her face is right up in front of Naomi's; Naomi can smell strawberries and rum and can see how Emily's lipgloss shines in the dull florescent lighting of the bar. And then Emily's leaning forward and kissing her, reaching forward and tangling her fingers in Naomi's hair, pulling her in ever closer.

It's better, this time, being kissed, even though her hands are still shaking and her heart's racing and she doesn't think she can breathe, the way her throat's closing up. But she knows now that she wants this, and that makes all the difference.

Emily pulls away first, looks at her in a way like she's afraid Naomi's going to run off again, and Naomi's suddenly filled with an unexpected sadness.

"Oh," she says at last, because that's the only thing that comes to mind. "Oh."

Emily smiles and kisses her again.

 

;;

 

Things move too fast. Always, with Emily, things move too fast.

In quick succession the kisses progress until Naomi finds herself in the bathroom of the restaurant, being kissed roughly by Emily, who pauses only long enough to lock the door behind them with a small smile before pushing Naomi up against the wall and kissing her again, biting down almost hard enough on Naomi's lip to make it bleed.

"Careful," Naomi warns, as Emily wastes no time in pushing her skirt up and slipping her hand into Naomi's knickers, stroking purposefully quick and hard. "Don't leave any marks," she murmurs in Emily's ear, digging her nails into Emily's shoulder.

She can barely keep up; Emily's fingers are too fast for her. It's only when Emily kisses her again before removing her hand and sinking down to her knees that she's able to catch her breath for a moment. And then Emily's tongue is on her and they're speeding up again, Naomi grunting a " _Fuck_ ," through gritted teeth, one hand tangling itself in Emily's hair and the other pressed flat against the wall, trying to keep herself steady.

Emily presses two fingers inside her and it's only moments later that she comes, jerking against Emily's mouth and fingers, her legs all of a sudden incredibly weak and threatening to give out.

"Jesus Christ," she exhales shakily and Emily sits back on her heels with a pleased smile, licking her fingers clean.

"So I'm guessing you like that," Emily says cheekily, standing up and brushing off the front of her skirt, as Naomi struggles to collect herself, her heart still pounding madly in her chest.

Naomi knits her fingers into the front of Emily's blouse, pulling her in and kissing her desperately. "Jesus fucking _Christ_ ," she murmurs in-between kisses, as Emily's hands settle on her back, grounding her. "Your fucking _tongue_."

Emily laughs, colouring lightly. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

"I can't even fucking walk, I don't think," Naomi says, her head spinning, and Emily steps away to look at herself in the mirror, washing her hands in the sink. Naomi pulls up her knickers with as much grace as she can manage, smoothing down the front of her skirt with shaky hands before joining Emily at the sink, kissing her lightly on the shoulder.

Emily hits the button for the dryer with her elbow; the sound of the air rushing out is incredibly loud in the sudden silence.

"Come over to my place, yeah?" Emily says when she's done drying her hands, turning to look at Naomi with a desperate sort of hopeful expression on her face."Just for a little while. Please."

Naomi shakes her head. "I can't, you know that. I told Effy I would be back home before eleven." She doesn't bother to add that she can't in part because she doesn't _want_ to, because she never actually intended for any of this to happen, for things to go this far. They've fucked twice now and it's just -- it's _not_ what she wants.

She almost tells Emily this, but then Emily stands on tiptoe and kisses her on the cheek with a quiet, "Alright then, you head on home; don't worry about the bill, it was my treat," and Naomi feels suddenly irrationally guilty, because Emily's clearly assumed this was something more than what it was, and even if she hasn't _said_ as much, the expression on her face gives her away entirely.

"I'll see you around, yeah," she mumbles, feeling like a right fucking cunt, ducking out the door before Emily can say anything else.

 

;;

 

She texts Effy: _on the train; will be home soon._

 _good_ , is the only reply, and Naomi swallows hard, trying unsuccessfully to rid herself of the lump in her throat.

 

;;

 

"How was dinner?" Effy asks from the kitchen when Naomi arrives home, shutting the door with a soft sigh and depositing her keys on the table in the hallway and hanging up her coat by the door. She slips out of her heels and heads into the other room, where Effy's standing at the counter making herself a cup of tea.

"How very British of you," Naomi remarks, coming up behind her and wrapping her arms around Effy's waist, kissing her on the cheek. Effy laughs and turns her head to peck her once on the lips. "I don't suppose you've boiled enough water for the two of us?"

Effy cocks her head in the direction of the cupboard. "Get yourself a cup and I'll make some for you as well."

Naomi fetches a mug from the cupboard over the sink.

"You didn't answer my question, though," Effy says as she's pouring the water. "How was dinner?"

"Good," Naomi says, watching the steam rising up from the cups. "Fairly uneventful, sorry to say. Emily's nice; like I've said many a time before, I think you two would get on pretty well," she adds after a minute, feeling another pang of guilt, this time for entirely different reasons.

"I think you get along with her better than I ever could," Effy hands Naomi's mug of tea to her, after dumping four spoonfuls of sugar into it. "Besides, I don't need friends."

"You're a terrible liar," Naomi says, taking a tentative sip of her drink. It's too hot; she burns her tongue on it.

 

;;

 

Effy's rougher in bed for a week after that.

Naomi wakes up to scratches on her back and bruises on her arms and a swollen lip from Effy biting down on it so hard that it split open and bled. When Naomi tries to go slow, Effy pushes her away, sliding her hand between Naomi's legs and stroking against her so quick and hard that it almost hurts; Naomi digs her nails into Effy's wrist and begs for release.

And it's so fucking obvious, really, that there's something wrong, but Naomi's too much of a coward to ask what it is. Instead, she curls up beside Effy on the bed and presses kisses along her shoulder and back, wrapping an arm around Effy's waist and murmuring lines from Shakespearian soliloquies in her ear, something that, in the past, would have got Effy out of whatever mood she was in; in the past, she would have turned in Naomi's arms and kissed her until they were both breathless.

Now she just lies there in silence, staring out into the darkness until one of them falls asleep.

 

;;

 

A month later things are almost back to normal; as normal as they ever could have been anyway, Naomi thinks somewhat bitterly over breakfast, skimming the business section of the newspaper while Effy makes them both tea.

Effy reaches across the table after she's sat down, wipes away a bit of strawberry jam from the corner of Naomi's mouth. Naomi looks up, ventures a smile; she's pleased to see it returned. After a brief period of Effy being colder and more distant than usual (a state of Effy that Naomi hadn't seen since college), Effy's gone back to her usual comfortable silences, the kind that Naomi has grown accustomed to.

"Let's go somewhere," Naomi says.

"Where?"

"Anywhere."

 

;;

 

New York City doesn't feel quite the same, this time around.

In some ways, it's bigger and brighter. In other ways, it's smaller and dirtier. Naomi remembers walking down the streets in the early morning sunlight, the first time she'd come here with Effy, when they'd spent the whole holiday in bed. Now they spend their days sightseeing; Effy with her camera, snapping pictures when the mood strikes her. When they collapse into bed in the evenings, it's only to sleep.

Effy presses a chaste kiss to Naomi's lips before rolling over, taking the blankets and warmth with her.

 

;;

 

She wishes things could be simple.

She wishes that her heart could stop flip-flopping back and forth. Either she wants Emily or she doesn't. Either she loves Effy or she doesn't. At some point in time, she needs to make a choice, to just decide what to do and stick with it, for once. When she's with Effy, she wants Emily. When she's with Emily, she wants Effy.Or at least, she thinks she does. Sometimes she's not sure if the aching she feels in her heart is love or longing or guilt or sadness. Everything is complicated nowadays.

Sometimes she wishes she'd never met Emily. Things used to be easy. She knew where she stood then.

Everything's changed now.

Lying in bed next to Effy, Naomi wonders what it would be like to lie beside Emily instead, wonders if Emily would curl up against her or turn away, if Emily would wake her up in the early morning with a hand between her thighs, whispering filthy things in her ear. Naomi imagines waking up to soft kisses being pressed against her ear, to warm breath on the back of her neck. She's not sure which scenario she finds more appealing.

All she is certain of is that her life would be very different without Emily. And it would be very different _with_ her.

 

;;

 

On the rare occasions when Naomi's afforded an extra long lunch break, they go down and sit by the harbour, watching the tourists come and go. It's always in silence that they sit, and at times it reminds Naomi so much of being with Effy that she almost can't stand it, but then Emily will cup her face in her hands and kiss her so softly that all thoughts of Effy will flee from her mind entirely.

When they don't have enough time, Naomi takes a taxi to Emily's office and they fuck there, quiet and desperate and wishing that things could be different. Later, Naomi will kiss Emily until it feels like their lips are bruised, until Emily pushes her away with a smile that's half-sad and reminds Naomi that if she doesn't leave now, she'll be late for her next meeting.

It's never enough, what they have.

 

;;

 

As it turns out, Effy makes her decision for her.

At breakfast one day she pushes a small, flat box across the table, careful not to knock over Naomi's glass of grape juice in the process. When Naomi looks up at her, Effy just shrugs and says, "Consider it an early birthday present."

Naomi undoes the wrapping carefully, so as not to tear the dark purple paper, tied together with pretty gold string. Underneath the layers is a single photograph, in a simple silver frame: a picture of the beach, with a heart drawn into the sand, _naomi+effy_ written in the center of it, in large, swooping letters. Looking at it, something breaks in Naomi.

"I love you," she says, because it's the truth.

When Effy comes around the table and kisses her -- in a softer way than Naomi can ever recall -- she starts to cry.

 

;;

 

She meets Emily in a little cafe two blocks down from the train station for lunch.

The first thing Emily does when Naomi slides down into the booth next to her is to reach over and grab her tie, pulling her in for a rough kiss. It's so much _more_ than kissing Effy, but also very similar, in a rather unsettling way, and she pulls away as gently as possible, braces herself for what is sure will be a rather spectacularly horrid conversation.

"Emily," she says, very slowly and deliberately, because she doesn't want to have to say this more than once, if possible, "we can't do this."

Emily looks confused. "Can't do what?" she asks, and when Naomi doesn't respond at first, she repeats the question. "Can't do _what_ , Naomi."

"This," Naomi says at last, spreading her hands out in front of her. "You and me. Whatever this _thing_ is that we have, it can't happen. It's just -- it _can't_ , okay? This needs to stop right now."

"What the hell are you on about Naomi," Emily says, her voice heavy and sad and accusatory and Naomi can't even bear to look at her and fuck it, she shouldn't feel _this damn guilty_ for breaking up -- if she can call it that, they aren't even in a _relationship_ for fuck's sake -- with Emily, considering she's been fucking around behind Effy's back.

(She feels like a right fucking slut.)

She moves over until she's almost at the edge of the booth, because just being this close to Emily is too much, and it's clear that Emily is not going to back down that easily. "Please," she says quietly, pleadingly. "You have to understand. I think you're fucking beautiful and brilliant and everything. But I _love_ Effy. I'm _in_ love with her. And I've hurt her so much by doing this and it fucking _kills_ me. And what you and I have -- _had_ \-- it's something fucking special too, but it . . . it doesn't work. Don't you get that? There will never be a happily ever after for us, and, and, I can't keep . . . _deluding_ myself into thinking it's possible."

She ventures a look up; her gaze is met by watery brown eyes, looking at her as if she's fucking killed her or something. And she hates herself, because this is all her fucking fault and everything's so fucked up now and it _shouldn't_ be, but it is, because apparently she has no fucking self-control at all. Effy had _trusted_ her. Had let her be her own person and independent and everything. And she'd just fucked that all up without even trying.

"I'm sorry," she says, standing up and staring at the floor.

" _Please_ ," Emily says quietly, desperately, reaching for her. "Naomi."

"I really can't," Naomi says, and fuck, the last thing she should be doing is fucking _crying_ , but she can't help it more than she can't help breaking Emily's heart. "You know I can't."

 

;;

 

Emily chases her down outside, catching up to her at the street corner.

"I'm _sorry_ ," she says, out of breath. "Please, just -- I just -- I _need_ you, okay? You don't -- you _can't_ understand -- how it feels, for once in your life finding someone who makes you feel like you're actually special. How I wake up every fucking morning and it's fucking _perfect_ because I know you're in it. And how much it kills me to know you're not actually mine, that I'm only getting a small part of you. So please, just." She starts crying again.

Naomi sighs, takes a step forward and wraps her arms around Emily, who sobs very quietly into her shoulder for several long minutes. Naomi strokes her hair and holds her as tight as she can. And it's just so fucked up, she shouldn't fucking care so much, because in reality, she doesn't even _know_ Emily; she's just a pretty girl from England that she met on a train one day. So she shouldn't care about breaking Emily's heart, especially when she's done worse to Effy without Effy even knowing it.

But she does, somehow, and it's what keeps her holding on to Emily.

 

;;

 

"You're late," Naomi notes, when Effy arrives home much later that evening.

She's huddled under two blankets on the couch, sipping tea and watching a documentary on the Discovery channel about an ancient tribe in Africa that's been virtually untouched by the modern world. It's a repeat, but she likes this one. Effy drops down at the other end of the couch with a sigh, grabs Naomi's pack of Lucky Strike off the table along with a pack of matches. Naomi listens to the sound of her striking the match, the heavy exhalation of smoke a few moments later.

"You alright?" she asks, glancing over at Effy, who doesn't answer, just reclines back on the couch and closes her eyes.

They watch television in silence. Finally, after an hour or so, when Effy's gone through three fags and even Naomi's eyes are beginning to burn a bit from the smoke and she's getting cramped from sitting in the same spot for so long, Effy says, "Sorry. For being late, that is."

"It's alright."

"No, it isn't. Aren't you cross with me? For not telling you I wasn't going to be in for dinner?"

"You're free to come and go as you please, you know that," Naomi says simply, shifting in place, her feet having fallen asleep from being sat on. "You don't have to fucking check in with me."

"You think I should have called, though. Go on."

Naomi knows Effy well enough to know when Effy's trying to wind her up. Instead of replying, she untangles herself from the blankets and moves forward across the couch, pinning Effy to the pillows and kissing her roughly. Effy's nails dig into her forearms and her teeth nip at Naomi's bottom lip; Naomi doesn't pull away.

"Fucking hell, Effy," Naomi says, panting, after several long moments. Effy watches her with large blue eyes. "Stop trying to set me off, for fuck's sake."

"I like you best when you're angry," Effy says casually, as if they'd been discussing the weather. "You're never angry any more."

"I don't want to -- "

"When you're angry, it means you care," Effy says, dragging her nails up and down the length of Naomi's arm,s, just hard enough to leave marks -- thin, red lines -- but not enough to actually hurt. "Isn't that right, Naomi? You're only angry -- passionate -- when you give a fuck about something. So tell me: why _shouldn't_ I want to make you angry?"

Naomi says, "Christ's sake, Effy."

"It's alright," Effy says, her face taking on that blank expression that Naomi hasn't seen in years, the kind she wears when she's pretending not to care, simply going cold and mute. A moment later Effy slips away quickly, grabbing the pack of fags off the coffee table and heading off in the direction of their bedroom.

"Effy," Naomi sighs helplessly.

"Come on then," Effy says, in a flat tone, pausing at the doorway and turning just enough to meet Naomi's eyes.

Naomi gets up and follows after her wordlessly.


	4. Books and Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'll sit through months away from home without you._

 

Winter passes and fades into spring.

On a rather dreary Tuesday afternoon in May, Emily sits down next to Naomi on the train and sticks her hand out.

"What's this?" Naomi asks, looking up from her Blackberry and shaking Emily's hand awkwardly.

"Just saying goodbye," Emily tells her. "College is letting out tomorrow. Well, I mean, today was _my_ last day, but tomorrow's the official last day. So I won't be seeing you until August -- if I even see you again; our schedules may not match up quite as nicely this time around. So I wanted to say goodbye."

Naomi looks down at her lap. "Wow. I never thought . . . Well, it's really been a year now, hasn't it? So much has happened, it feels like -- never mind. I'll miss you."

"Yeah," Emily says, eyes shining with tears. "I'll miss you too."

They spend most of the train ride in silence.

When the stop for Framingham is called out over the intercom, Naomi shoves her Blackberry in her pocket and pulls her bag onto her lap, hugging it tightly. "You know, I'm rather fond of you, Emily Fitch," she says, after a long moment.

Emily stays silent, but she reaches over and takes Naomi's hand in her own, squeezing it hard.

"And we _will_ see each other again," Naomi says, as the train begins to slow to a stop. "So, have a good summer, okay?"

"Okay," Emily says, and swipes at her eyes, ducking her head.

 

;;

 

The days pass slowly after that.

Sometimes Naomi wonders how she ever managed to get on, before she saw Emily every day. Now the train rides that she used to look forward to are nothing but a nuisance, an hour of her life spent wasted travelling. The harbour near South Station looks even more brilliant in the summer, even if it's hot and crowded with tourists and there aren't ever any open benches along the water where she can sit and eat her lunch. She sits on the green and watches the people coming and going until her hour is up, wonders what Emily's doing at the moment, if she's sitting at home in Worcester or out travelling.

It's times like this when Naomi realizes she doesn't really know Emily at all, that she's never met any of Emily's other friends, that she has no idea what Emily does when they're not together. It's a bit disconcerting, thinking about it, but then, Naomi thinks, the truth always is.

But as May starts to wind down to a close, Naomi can't help but be a little bit grateful for the summer holiday, if only because things with Effy have begun to level out to the point where they're almost back where they used to be. Their lovemaking is still rough, but not in the angry, sad way that it was for so long; now the roughness is borne out of a desperate sort of wanting, like back in university, when there was always a sense of urgency in the air, as if the world was ending. And it's not exactly how Naomi'd like for things to be, but at least it's _something_.

"You're doing it again," Effy mumbles into her shoulder, her finger tracing around Naomi's bellybutton.

"What?"

"Thinking too much," Effy kisses her neck, moves until she's on top of Naomi, straddling her waist; Naomi's hands instinctively shoot forward and she covers Effy's breasts with her palms, feeling the nipples harden under her touch.

Naomi squeezes lightly, likes the way Effy sighs and pushes forward into her hands. "It's not like I can just stop doing that sort of thing," she says, and brushes her thumbs across Effy's nipples, stroking them lightly. "You're asking me to stop doing something that I'm inherently good at, after all."

Effy bends down to kiss her.

"What's wrong?" Naomi says, as Effy pulls away, straightening.

"Nothing," Effy says, moving her hands up so that they cover Naomi's own, rocking her hips forward slightly. She draws her hand away, bringing Naomi's hand up to her mouth and kissing the palm, before pressing it against her cheek, cradling it.

"Effy."

"I want to go away for the summer holiday," Effy says, once more moving Naomi's hand, this time to her thigh before sliding inward; Naomi takes control then, fingers stroking purposefully. "Good girl," Effy murmurs and Naomi feels herself get wet all over again, at the words.

She watches Effy's face as her fingers work: how Effy's eyes flutter closed, how she bites down on her bottom lip.

"Fuck," she groans quietly, when Effy's hips jerk forward, and Effy opens her eyes and grins down wickedly at her, leaning over and cupping one of Naomi's breasts with her hand, thumb brushing against the nipple in slow, light strokes. Naomi groans again and quickens the speed of her fingers.

Effy pulls Naomi's hand away before she can come, licks her fingers clean and shifts down until her head's between Naomi's legs. She licks once, teasingly, and Naomi's head falls back against the pillow with a low moan, hips arching up into Effy's mouth.

" _Jesus_."

Effy gets them both off; her tongue on Naomi and a hand between her own thighs, fingers working so fast that Naomi can fucking _feel_ it, Effy's arm moving against her, feels when Effy shudders only moments before she comes herself, pulling roughly on Effy's hair, muscles tensing, stars flashing behind her eyelids.

"Jesus," Naomi says again, after several long moments of trying to catch her breath, her heart still racing madly in her chest. She pushes her sweaty fringe back with a shaky hand, grins. "I don't know how you always do that to me," she tells Effy, fingers skimming across Effy's back. "You make me feel so out of control."

A mumbled response from Effy that Naomi doesn't understand, followed by a kiss that she _does_ , and it's at times like these when she remembers why it is she fell in love with Effy in the first place: she always does and never tells and it doesn't matter if she's not talking, because it's what she _does_ that means the most.

She falls asleep with one arm draped around Effy's middle, face buried into the crook of Effy's neck; her hair smells of summer.

 

;;

 

"We're going to Maine," Effy says nonchalantly over eggs and toast, nearly two days later.

Naomi looks up from her paper. "What? Well, if you want to, that's fine, but I don't know if I'll be able to make reservations for a house this late -- "

"It's fine," Effy stabs at her eggs. "I made reservations months ago."

"Oh. Oh," Naomi says, smiling, rather pleased by this sudden burst of initiative from Effy, "I didn't realize you like it that much. Did you do it just after we got back from Christmas holiday?"

A pause, while Effy chews and swallows a mouthful of toast and strawberry jam. "Soon after."

"Well, I think it's lovely," Naomi says, rests her hand on top of Effy's, bridging the gap between them.

When Effy gets up, dumping her bowl and spoon into the sink, heading to the bathroom to shower, Naomi rises and follows her silently. Under the streams of hot water, Naomi edges up behind Effy, kisses her neck, wraps her arms around Effy's waist -- and she can't but notice how _thin_ Effy's gotten, hates herself for not realizing it sooner -- and holds her until Effy untangles herself gently, murmurs that she needs to shampoo her hair.

Her hands, soapy, move up to cover Naomi's breasts. Naomi kisses her, slow, sloppy kisses, and she can taste the hot water in her mouth, like iron, underneath strawberries. Effy washes her hair for her, fingers running through blond locks that need to be trimmed and re-bleached again soon, because her roots are starting to show. She's gotten lazy about these sort of things; Effy doesn't care, and even if she did, she wouldn't say anything about them, and she just couldn't be arsed to get it taken care of recently.

That will change, though, she thinks, as she watches Effy rinse off, eyes closed, hands smoothing her hair back. Everything is going to change now. Naomi will make sure of it.

 

;;

 

The first thing Effy does when they get to Maine and have finished unpacking the car, is to run across the street and out to the beach. Naomi follows her with an amused smile, hands in her pockets, as Effy stops at the edge of the water, letting the waves come up and lap around her ankles.

"I missed this place," Effy says quietly, when Naomi comes up beside her, staring out at the horizon.

"Yeah," Naomi says. "So did I."

When night rolls around, they end up walking along the beach in their bare feet, right along the water. Effy searches for bits and pieces of seaglass, pocketing whatever she can find. She explains to Naomi that she'd seen a picture somewhere, of all the glass stored up in a little container; she liked how the light had reflected off all the tiny pieces, blue and green and brown. Naomi tries to imagine how that must look, thinks about such a jar sitting on their bedroom window and decorating the walls with colour in morning sunlight, and helps Effy look for some.

Finished with their walk, they sit up on the shore, near the road, watching as the waves roll in and out, the moon bright and shining over head, the night sky clearer than Naomi's ever seen it before. She and Effy take turns pointing out constellations, though Effy's are mostly ones she's just made up on the spot, with elaborate backstories to boot -- eventually Naomi just grabs Effy's hand and pulls her in for a kiss, because it's the first time she's heard Effy talk this much in _ages_ , and everything finally feels normal again.

It feels like how they used to be.

"Come on," Naomi says finally, standing up and tugging on Effy's hand until she stands as well. "I'm well cold."

They make love slowly, gently. Effy teases her with the lightest of touches, just barely dragging her tongue and fingers across Naomi's skin, and it's all Naomi can do to grit her teeth and beg for _more_. Under the duvet, Naomi cups Effy's face in her hands and kisses her as sweetly as she can manage. Effy smiles into the kiss; Naomi kisses her harder.

She drifts off to sleep with Effy's fingers stroking along her hip, pressing soft kisses to Naomi's forehead.

It feels like coming home.

 

;;

 

The first week passes by incredibly quickly.

They go to the beach every day, at Effy's instance. Most of the time she doesn't even go swimming, just spends the day walking up and down the length of it, writing things in the sand or napping in the sun. Naomi occupies her time reading in the shade of their over-sized beach umbrella and staring at Effy, in her barely-there bikini. Effy catches her watching her sometimes; winks, blows a kiss in Naomi's direction and it makes her feel like a teenager all over again, Christ.

In the evenings they make love until they're both exhausted, kicking off the sheets and blankets because it's too damn hot. Naomi spoons against Effy, sucking on a spot on her neck until the blood rises to the surface and Effy doesn't bother to push her away, just laughs and grabs Naomi's hand, placing it between her thighs, rocking her hips up against it and grinding back against Naomi.

Effy's hair has been bleached some, from the sun and salt water. It smells like the sand and ocean water; Naomi buries her face in it, inhaling deeply. Effy reaches up, turning slightly, tangles her fingers in Naomi's hair and kisses her sloppily, Naomi's fingers still working in slow, lazy circles against Effy's clit.

"I love you," Naomi mumbles against Effy's mouth, her fingers stroking a bit quicker.

Effy just smiles and covers Naomi's hand with her own once more.

 

;;

 

They go shopping in Freeport.

It's ridiculously crowded, because of the warm weather -- it's exceptionally warm out for a day in mid-July in New England, and Naomi begins sweating the minute they park their compact Toyota on a side street and climb out, and all the stores are offering massive sales for the inevitable return to school once August rolls around.

They go to L.L. Bean first, at Naomi's insistence, because Effy needs a proper coat, not that bloody flimsy one she's had since university that does fuck all to keep her warm in the winter. Effy counters this by coolly dismissing everything they come across, and finally Naomi gives in and says that Effy doesn't need to fucking _wear_ it, but she should at least _have_ it, in case they get caught in a sodding blizzard one day. That seems to be enough to satisfy Effy, who finds something suitable a moment later, handing it over to Naomi with an amused smirk.

"Right then," Naomi says, once they're outside. "Where to next?"

"How about there?" Effy asks with a lazy grin, pointing in the direction of a British import shop, right across the street. "Ah, it would be lovely, don't you think, giving us a chance to reminisce about the old country," she adds a moment later, sighing dramatically.

Naomi laughs and nudges her gently in the ribs. "But I've already got the best of England with me right now."

"I believe that's the single most romantic thing you've ever said, Ms Campbell."

"Yes, well," Naomi shifts the bag to her other hand. "Don't get used to it. It was a once-only charity event, you understand. I plan on being a magnificent cunt for the rest of the day just to make up for it."

Effy smirks, fumbles around with her purse until she's fetched them both a fag. They light up while walking; Effy takes the bag from Naomi and loops it around her arm. The rest of the morning consists of them making their way down the outlet store lined street; there aren't even that many stores to go through, but Effy has a different perspective on shopping than Naomi, in that she actually puts an ounce of thought into the clothes she buys, which, to Naomi, makes the whole process agonizingly slow.

Inside Banana Republic, while Naomi's stood outside the dressing room waiting for Effy to finish trying things on, Naomi spots a girl with brilliant red hair and, nearly drops everything she's holding. But then the girl turns around and well, clearly it's not Emily -- which makes sense, anyway, Naomi thinks stupidly, there's no way she would have run into Naomi here -- and she sighs, relieved.

(She can't calm the double-time beating of her heart, though.)

Effy comes out a moment later, three dresses short enough to be worn as shirts draped over her arm and Naomi forces a smile,despite still feeling incredibly shaken. And it bothers her, she thinks, while standing in line waiting for the register, Effy going through the various displays of cosmetics, toying with one before putting it back -- it bothers her that just seeing someone who only bears the slightest resemblance to Emily can set her off so.

It's absolutely infuriating; she can't get Emily out of her head for the rest of the day. Every time she sees a flash of red, she tenses up, convinced that fate -- or coincidence or whatever -- is trying to best her by making the impossible possible. Every girl is Emily now, including Effy, who absentmindedly grabs Naomi's hands while they're going through a rack of marked down clothing, and it's not an Effy thing at _all_ ; it's so out of place that Naomi almost wrenches her hand away.

Of course Effy picks up on it.

"Are you okay?" she asks, over her garden salad when they've stopped for an early dinner. "You're been quiet today -- more so than usual."

"I'm fine," Naomi lies. "It's just -- the heat, you know, it's made me tired."

"Yeah," Effy says, sips her wine. "Of course."

When Effy's hand settles on her thigh later that evening, while Naomi's up reading beside her and the telly's droning on in the background, Naomi stiffens. She can't do this right now, not when she's still reeling from the day's events and is terrified that now _everything_ is going to be ruined because of it. She doesn't want to be thinking of Emily when she _should_ be thinking of Effy, who is real and whole beside her, who's lightly tracing the patterns on her pyjama bottoms with a slender finger.

"Not tonight," she sighs, takes Effy's hand and brings it up to her mouth, kissing the knuckles. "Please."

Effy says nothing, just leans forward and kisses the corner of Naomi's mouth, before climbing out of bed and slipping on Naomi's plimsolls, which are only a little too big for her.

"Where are you going?" Naomi shuts her book."Effy -- "

"I'm just going out," Effy says, back to her. "I'll come back."

Naomi watches her grab her camera from their travel bag, looks up as Effy glances back over her shoulder, expression blank, before heading out, shutting the door behind her softly. Two minutes later and Naomi's got her shoes on and is locking their room door, tramping down the stairs, and out onto the porch.

She can see Effy out on the beach sitting on the rocks, watching the tide come in, not even flinching when the water sprays up near her. Naomi feels a tinge of unexpected guilt, and she's not even sure what it's _for_ , exactly, but she thinks maybe she should chase after her --

But she can't. She's not that type of person and neither is Effy.

So she sits and watches Effy until she dozes off and wakes up to Effy kissing her lightly.

"You waited," she says simply, before kissing Naomi again.

"That's what I do, don't I?" Naomi mumbles sleepily, pushing herself up. "It's what we do. We wait for each other."

Effy opens the door, leads them inside and up the stairs.

"Yes," she says, pushing Naomi gently to the mattress and climbing on top of her, pressing their bodies flush together. Naomi sighs and runs her hands through Effy's hair, wild and tangled from the ocean wind; she smells of saltwater and sand and cigarette smoke. Effy leans in and kisses her so gently that it feels almost unreal.

(Maybe it is.)

 

;;

 

When they were in university, sometimes they wouldn't speak for days.

It made sense; Effy didn't like to talk and Naomi didn't much like to listen. There wasn't much of need to speak, anyway, since anything of importance could always be expressed better through actions, rather than words. Naomi remembers lazy evenings spent lounging in Effy's dormitory bed in just her knickers and loose top, idly stroking Effy's hair, who sat and smoked silently, gazing out the window. Often times they'd spend whole weekends like this, in between moments of passion, where their love making alternated between being sweet and meaningful to rough and fast and _hard_ , depending on their mood.

It was so easy, how they got on.

They didn't talk, so they didn't argue. They didn't say things they'd later regret. Sometimes Naomi got angry, jealous, even though she'd never before believed herself to be _that_ kind of person -- once when they were out at a club, some guy was very obviously trying to pull Effy and Effy, being her, was leading him on, and it was all well and good until she kissed him, and then it was very much _not_ okay. She'd dragged Effy into the bathroom and into an empty stall, slamming her up against the wall and ripping her leggings off and fucking her so hard that she felt absolutely filthy about it the next day.

Of course, it occurred to her later that that had probably been Effy's plan all along, and she leaned in and kissed her right in the middle of the hallway in between classes, because Effy was _clever_.

By the time their third and final year of university came along, they'd already gotten an apartment together in the city. It was a small, three room affair, with the kitchen and living and dining room all occupying the same place, but it didn't matter, because Effy brought in her old bed from home and they spent most of their time in it. Being in this bed was infinitely different to the small, cramped beds that Naomi had come to know so well; it felt like drowning, sometimes, when she was in bed with Effy and the duvet was covering them and it was just so _big_.

But despite being closer than before, they seemed to grow more apart. Effy went out on her own more while Naomi often times found herself sitting at home by herself for most days of the week, pitifully revising for exams that were weeks away. Most of the time she'd fall asleep on the couch, book in hands, only to be awakened in the early morning by Effy, who straddled her waist and stared at her with wide blue eyes.

"You waited," she'd say, almost unbelieving. "Why did you do that?"

"Because," Naomi would say, and it wouldn't be a proper response at all, but it always seemed to satisfy Effy, who would cup Naomi's face in her hands and kiss her lightly, tasting of alcolpops and cigarettes, before rolling off and curling up against Naomi on the couch.

They were too old for this, for Effy to be going out and coming home pissed and too young for Naomi to be staying up to wait for her, but they did it anyway, fucked on the couch without taking off any of their clothes, Effy's hand slipping down the front of Naomi's trousers and stroking her through her knickers until Naomi bucked against her, nails digging into Effy's shoulder.

And then Christmas came and went and Naomi brought Effy back home to finally meet her mum, and things levelled out some after that. Effy still went out, but she came back sooner, while Naomi was still up, and now they managed to make it to the bedroom and shed their clothing.

Things had always been like this, a rough give and take. The changes in their lives were always abrupt; the only thing that wasn't was _them_ , and one day Naomi realized, quite acutely, that she loved Effy very much and she couldn't believe she was only just _now_ figuring this out. But somehow this relationship had gone from something nice to something real and meaningful and they were almost adults at this point, trying to find jobs as the end of university and graduation neared.

Things had been easy because there was never any conflict. Naomi knew it wasn't healthy, knew that real couples _talked_ about things, worked through them, instead of clamming up and pretending they didn't exist. But then, how many problems did they really _have_? Aside from disagreeing on what to watch on the evenings when they -- or just _Effy_ \-- didn't go out, there wasn't much to _cause_ conflict. Okay, so maybe sometimes Effy's fuck-all attitude could get annoying and maybe Effy disliked the way Naomi turned everything into a political agenda, but things were _good_.

 _They_ were good -- separate and together.

It was one of the things Naomi loved best about Effy, actually, that Effy just let her _be_ and didn't try and pin her down and keep Naomi for herself. (Naomi _was_ only Effy's, but that was beside the point.) And that was what Naomi loved best about _them_ , together, the fact that they could work like this.

And things were good, even when Naomi announced that she was fucking off to Africa for two years to work in the Peace Corps. She'd expected a fight, had expected Effy to demand her not to go, but Effy just kissed her and in only a half-serious voice told her that she'd better come back with all her limbs still firmly attached. They'd made love on the floor, in the afternoon sunlight, which resulted in Naomi getting some rather nasty rug burns, but all in all, it was quite lovely. Delicate, almost, Naomi would think to call it later.

They were special.

 

;;

 

It's the going out on her own that bothers Naomi the most.

Effy used to do it all the time, when they were younger, but she'd settled in a lot after they'd moved to a new apartment around the time Naomi was done with the Peace Corps. However, she's started doing it again, lately, just leaving and not giving Naomi any indication as to where she was going and when she'll be back. Naomi thinks at first that maybe she could just _ask_ , but the one time she does, Effy just stares at her mutely until Naomi looks away, flushing and feeling like she was back in university. She figures it's best to just let Effy be; if she wants to be out walking the beach at night -- Naomi watches her sometimes, from the porch -- then so be it. She'd done a lot fucking worse back in her college days.

But it isn't even the actual _going out_ that bothers Naomi, so much as the fact that Effy is actually _doing_ it. It's a sure and clear sign that something's wrong, even though Naomi can't for the life of her work out what it is, since as far as she knew, things between her and Effy had been improving.

There's no use in asking Effy what it is that's bothering her, this was a lesson Naomi'd learned early on. The best she can hope for is that this was only one of Effy's moods, where after a few weeks of sulking silence and distance she'd sort out whatever it was that was going on and things would return to normal. This isn't the case, though, not this time; Effy, though usually quiet, is more withdrawn than usual, only speaking to Naomi when she absolutely has to and saying nothing but the bare minimum. It's incredibly frustrating, sometimes, and though it makes Naomi's heart clench up with fear just _thinking_ about it, she wishes Effy could at least once, say what's on her mind.

"Just _tell_ me," she says finally, three weeks later, because she really can't fucking stand this. They're adults now, for fuck's sake, and they should at least _try_ and act like it. "Effy," she pleads lamely. "Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"There's nothing to tell," Effy exhales a mouthful of smoke. "I'm fine."

It's a blatant lie, but Naomi doesn't even have the heart to call her out on it. She moves to kiss Effy instead, hoping maybe Effy won't shy away from affection like she shies away from conversations, but Effy turns her head so that Naomi's kiss lands on her cheek instead.

Okay, Naomi thinks, resigned, and heads upstairs for bed, leaving Effy sitting alone on the porch steps.

In bed, she finds herself thinking about Emily, who she's successfully managed not to think about for almost a month now, ever since the incident in Freeport. But maybe it's guilt or something else, because she can't think about anything else _but_ Emily now. She hasn't heard from her at all this summer, save for one quick email that said she was enjoying her summer holiday and that she was finally getting a chance to catch up with some old college friends. Things were going well, Emily'd said, adding a line down that she hoped Naomi's holiday was going just as well.

Naomi'd almost replied, but in the end, had just deleted it. It was better that way.

Now she thinks about Emily, sitting at home on her couch, probably in her pyjamas watching shitty late-night television and sipping on a glass of wine, wonders if Emily's really having as good a holiday as she said she was. She wonders if Emily's lonely. She can't help but think of that first night, of the way Emily'd stared up at her with large, scared brown eyes, the way the vodka'd splattered all over Naomi's ankles, leaving them sticky in the morning. And then there was Emily's mouth on hers, her tongue ---

She shifts in bed, suddenly uncomfortably wet. Perhaps, she thinks, it'd be best not to think of _those_ moments.

Her mind slips to other things, instead, like the days they'd sat side-by-side on the train riding in from Boston, Emily pouring over essays, red pen tucked behind her ear. She remembers winter days spent eating lunch down by the docks in the south end, when it was too bloody cold for them to be doing it, but they didn't care. And then there's the memory of Emily kissing her goodbye, two weeks before they separated, standing on tiptoes because Naomi'd worn absurdly high heels that day in an attempt to look somewhat presentable for an important meeting at work.

Emily'd kissed her so sweetly; Naomi hadn't wanted to pull away. It makes her heart clench up now, thinking about it.

At some point she drifts off to sleep, because the next thing she knows she's waking up to the sun in her face and an empty space in the bed beside her.

Things aren't okay.

 

;;

 

"You know," Effy says, when they're sat on the cement barrier between the ocean and the road, overlooking a rock-covered stretch of beach and watching people sail further out. "When I was younger, I used to think there was absolutely no reason for love."

"Yeah?" Naomi rubs her arms to warm them up. It's mid-afternoon, but it's also overcast and with the breeze coming in off the water, she's getting a bit cold. "When I was younger I used to think love was shit. I didn't see the point in it. I mean, I'd seen my mum get fucked over because of it, so I didn't really believe it could be as great as everyone said it was."

Effy made a sound of agreement. "It makes me wonder, how we ended up like we did," she murmurs, after a time, having smoked through two fags already. She turns and stares at Naomi blankly. "Did you ever? Wonder, I mean."

Naomi shrugs, shifting and tucking her legs under herself, sitting cross-legged. "A bit. I think sometimes these things just happen though. Like, maybe they don't need any story of explanation. And you forget -- we were older. Well, not in college, but afterward, in uni. We sort of knew more about what we wanted then."

"Yeah." A shrug as Effy stubs out her cigarette. "Probably."

The boats tip back and forth along the choppy water. Naomi watches them, wonders about the people on board, what their lives are like. She thinks about being out there, on the ocean, feeling the unsteady rocking beneath her feet. It almost feels like that now, even being on dry land; her stomach knots up accordingly and she suddenly feels sick. She glances over at Effy, who just keeps on looking straight ahead, expression blank and unchanging.

Naomi sighs and taps out a cigarette, striking a match against the cement and lighting up. "Why are we even talking about this, Effy," she says, after another minute of silence has gone by.

Effy doesn't turn. "What are we talking about?"

"You tell me."

"Well, if you don't know what we're talking about, why are you asking why we're doing it?" Effy sounds annoyed. Naomi rolls her eyes, exhales slowly.

"Christ," she mutters, letting her fag smoulder between her fingers. "Is this the way things are going to go now? Is this what we're going to do?"

"We're not _doing_ anything, Naomi," Effy says, in an obnoxiously patronizing tone, as if she's speaking to a child.

"Exactly my fucking point," Naomi snaps back, pushing herself off the barrier, not even caring that she scrapes the back of her hand in the process. She stares at the white, torn layer of skin, rubs at it. Effy doesn't move, doesn't do anything but sit there silently and it only makes Naomi angrier -- and she doesn't even know how this _happened_ , how she got so upset.

Later, she slams Effy up against the bedroom door and kisses her, biting down hard enough on Effy's bottom lip to draw blood. Effy smiles at her, before shoving her away, pushing Naomi towards the bed. They fuck -- because that's what it _is_ , fucking, not something with even the slightest amount of sweetness -- roughly, angrily, and Naomi ends up bruised and aching all over.

And it's not really _anything_ at all, it's not even a proper make-up, but it seems to do just fine, for a bit, because Effy's surprisingly cheerful for the rest of the week and Naomi wonders if maybe this really _is_ just the way things are going to go now. They fight, they fuck, they get over it -- they're stuck on repeat. But she doesn't say anything, for fear of somehow ruining it, and Effy doesn't give her any indication that she thinks what they're doing is at all _bad_.

It should be enough, but it isn't. It isn't enough to just have small pockets of happiness here and there. This isn't how things were meant to work out.

 

;;

 

"I want you," she mumbles into Effy's shoulder, after Effy's just made her come incredibly hard, her legs still aching from straining up against Effy's fingers. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Effy says, not looking at her. "Sure."

It feels insurmountable.

 

;;

 

After the first week of August, they're back in Framingham. It feels to Naomi like they've been gone even longer than that. There's a sort of stillness that's settled in the apartment in their absence; the air feels stale, somehow, and Naomi throws open the curtains and props open the windows, letting in sunlight and the hot summer air. It's been exactly two years now that they've been living here. Naomi says as such to Effy, who gives her an usually bright smile and pushes her into the bedroom.

Later, unpacking, Naomi lifts one of Effy's shirts up to her face, breathing in deeply. It still smells like the ocean; it reminds Naomi more of their winter spent in Maine, rather then their summer. It startles her, this realization, and she has to put the shirt down and go help Effy in the kitchen instead.

A week later, when they've both settled back into work, Effy suggests that they visit Worcester on Saturday.

"What?" Naomi asks, through a mouthful of sushi. "Why?"

"I've been told it's rather pretty in the summer," Effy says, playing with her chopsticks. "And I want to visit the art museum there. There's a new exhibit, it's on modernism; I heard it's . . . _interesting_."

Naomi swallows, hard. "Right. Well, that's fine. I mean, sure, if you want to go, we'll go. It's not far from here. We could take the train or -- "

"We'll drive," Effy says, firmly. "I'm not very fond of the trains here."

That night Naomi doesn't sleep well at all; she keeps having a recurring dream of her and Effy visiting the museum and instead of seeing paintings, there were photos all around of herself and Emily. Dream-Effy turns to her and says, "I told you it would be interesting, didn't I?" and Naomi wakes in cold sweat, heart racing. Eventually she stops trying to sleep and winds up sitting on the couch, watching the news on mute and smoking through a whole pack of cigarettes.

It's where Effy finds her, the next morning.

She doesn't say a word, just sits down next to Naomi with a glass of orange juice and amaretto. Naomi wants to tell her that it's too fucking early in the morning to be drinking, but instead she just leans over and kisses Effy roughly. She pushes Effy back onto the couch and doesn't let up until her wrist has grown so sore she can't move it at all.

The trip into Boston on Friday is a lonely one. Naomi sits at a seat by the window and puts her bag down on the other seat so that no one else can sit next to her. She's forgotten what it's like to take the train in by herself; for so long it's always been with Emily. Emily, who once and a while would slip her hand under their coats -- laid across their laps to save space -- and squeeze Naomi's gently. Emily, who would sit and grade essays under the dim train lights, glasses on, red pen at the ready.

Something in her closes up, makes her feel like she can't breathe.

Saturday can't come soon enough.

 

;;

 

Worcester in summertime _is_ lovely.

They go through the park, first, one down near Union station, the one closest to the art museum. Naomi recognizes it from before; the cab had driven by here when she'd gone to Emily's way back when. It feels like another life, when Effy and Naomi walk up the too-steep bridges, made more for artistic than practical reasons. Effy stops to snap pictures of two swans on the water; when they put their heads together, their necks form a heart. Naomi can't help but reach forward and grab Effy's hand in hers.

Effy looks at her, surprised, but she doesn't pull away.

They stroll through the museum in the afternoon. Effy's far more interested in the exhibit than Naomi, who is trying not to focus on the fact that she's only a hundred or so meters away from where Emily's apartment is. She can't stop herself from wondering if Emily's at home, what's she doing right now. It's only when they get to the section of paintings of Hans Hoffman can she not stand it any longer.

She tells Effy she's going to the loo and instead heads off to the main entrance instead.

Outside, the sun overhead is bright and hot and blinding. She has to shield her eyes from it as she crosses the street, heading down to where Emily's apartment building is. It looks so different now not covered in snow; it's only the sign for the Higgins Armoury that assures Naomi it's the same place.

There's a call box near the front door. Naomi hesitates briefly before pressing the button next to the slot with the name _E. Fitch_ written next to it. B2. She doesn't even know what she'll say if Emily's there, if she answers. She knows she should have thought this out first; it's ridiculous, really, just showing up at her apartment and expecting --

There's no answer. Naomi waits another moment and pushes the button again, holding it down for a bit longer this time.

Of course Emily's not home. Of _course_ \-- she should have called, told Emily that they would be in the area. Maybe then they could have -- well, anything would have been better than running off and leaving Effy in the middle of the museum.

There's still no response, a minute later.

With a sigh, Naomi heads back to the museum. She finds Effy in the far left wing, looking over some old Renaissance paintings.

"You were gone a while," Effy observes calmly, not looking at her.

"Yeah," Naomi says, slipping her hand into Effy's. "Sorry, I wandered off a bit."

"Right." Effy pulls away, not enough to dislodge their fingers, but just enough for Naomi to feel it. She follows Effy docilely around the museum for the rest of the afternoon, until Effy decides that she's tired and had enough. Outside, the air is unexpectedly cool, the sky clouded over.

Naomi fishes her keys out of her pocket, unlocking the car. "It looks like it's going to rain,."

Effy makes a small, non-committal sound and slips into her seat.

 

;;

 

It happens unexpectedly.

Lying in bed next to Effy one morning, watching her sleep in the later morning sunlight, Naomi's overcome with a such a feeling of contentment that it takes everything in her not to lean in and kiss the life out of Effy. Instead, she trails her fingers along the bare skin of Effy's arm, up and down and up and down, until Effy finally stirs, opening her eyes and meeting Naomi's gaze.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Naomi says and leans forward, pressing their lips together. Effy's arm comes around and wraps itself against Naomi's waist, pulling Naomi on top of her. Naomi can feel Effy's hands tangling in her hair while they kiss and it feels different, somehow; less angry and more _needing_ , like when they were back in university. It makes her kiss Effy a bit more forcefully.

Effy's knee slides up between her legs and it's not what Naomi was looking for really, but this is the most forward Effy has been in some time, so she grinds down against it, even as her mouth moves down to Effy's breasts, sucking hard on a nipple. They move together clumsily, as if it's the first time all over again, but she still sees stars when she comes, one hand pressed flush against the small of Effy's back, Effy's fingers stroking lazily against her.

"Fuck," Naomi murmurs, still breathing heavily, and Effy just laughs and kisses her nice and sweet."Come here," Naomi says, and Effy does as she's asked, sliding down into the empty space of the bed and allowing herself to be wrapped up in Naomi's arms.

They drift in and out of sleep for the rest of the morning, not getting up until it's well past noon. At one point, Naomi wakes briefly and, rolling over, sees that Effy's just there beside her, dead to the world, and she looks so small and fragile all of a sudden that it's all Naomi can do to wrap Effy up in her arms, tucking Effy's head under her chin.

Effy shifts in her sleep, arms tightening subconsciously around Naomi, and it feels like her heart may burst because of it, because it reminds her of when they were back in university in too-small beds and how they clung to each other, for fear of falling off. She buries her nose in Effy's hair and breathes in deeply; it still smells like cucumbers, the conditioner Effy used to use when they were younger. When things were better, easier.

She doesn't mean to say it this way, but it comes out sounding really shit. "I know we haven't really talked about this before, but I was thinking -- well, maybe, if you want to . . . maybe we could -- well, we could make it so that we have this always, and I -- "

"No," Effy says, dismissively, cutting her off.

Naomi feels her throat close up and it's stupid, because she should have _expected_ this, for Effy to react this way. "Why?" she ends up asking, because really, there's nothing else to say.

"You're clever, Naomi," Effy says, settling against her, eyes flickering closed. "You should be able to figure it out, if you don't already know."

Naomi can feel tears welling up in her eyes, stinging and traitorous; she forces them back down, swallowing hard. "I haven't just ruined things between us now, have I?" she asks hopelessly.

"No." Effy sighs, strokes Naomi's wrist absentmindedly. "No, of course you haven't."

She rolls over just enough to kiss the corner of Naomi's mouth; she wipes at a rogue tear on Naomi's cheek with her thumb, but that's all. She doesn't say anything about it or try to be sweet and consoling. Naomi thinks she loves Effy just a little more because of it. Or in spite of it. She's not quite sure.

But maybe it'll be okay, she thinks, as Effy begins to drift off to sleep in Naomi's arms, her breathing becoming slower, more shallow. Maybe they'll just be good enough to stay like this. It's not really what she wants, but when, she thinks ruefully, has she ever really gotten what she's wanted?

 

;;

 

She can't let it go. She _can't_.

Effy'd rejected her, just like that. So neat and simple and something like that shouldn't be so easy to do, Naomi thinks. It feels ridiculously unfair to her, because she _knows_ she fucked up, but she's been trying to be a better person, and Effy just isn't _letting_ her do it. One minute she's the girl Naomi fell in love with and the next moment she's a total stranger, sitting in the dark and smoking until she's decided she's had enough. Everything is on Effy's schedule now and Naomi can't stand it at all, because things were _never_ like this before. Even when they were in university, pulling in opposite directions, things hadn't been like this.

She doesn't know how to make this right, doesn't know what to do to _fix_ them, and ends up wondering if they even _can_ be fixed at this point. It's enough to make her start to cry at work, right there in her cubicle, during lunch, and she feels horribly pathetic because of it, runs off to the bathroom and splashes cold water on her face.

That night she pins Effy to the bed, slipping her hand between Effy's thighs and stroking purposefully, not slowing or stopping until Effy _begs_ her to, raking her nails down Naomi's back and leaving angry, bright red scratches. Naomi sits up, licks at her fingers one by one; Effy's legs are shaking and she struggles to catch her breath, looking up at Naomi with wide, unfocused eyes.

It feels like validation, somehow.

Sometimes she thinks maybe Effy just doesn't want to be with her. It seems stupid, even thinking it, but Effy's become so distant in these past couple of months that Naomi can't help but be afraid that Effy simply no longer wants her. It makes sense, then, why Effy would be okay with just rejecting her the way she did, why Effy seems to be completely detached from the whole thing all together.

She thinks about Emily, who once asked her why, if Naomi loved Effy so much, she kept this affair going. It'd thrown her for a loop at the time and she'd gotten so angry that she didn't see or talk to Emily for nearly two weeks after. But now, thinking back on it, she wonders if Emily's less-than-subtle point was true. _Is_ true. Maybe she's got things backwards -- maybe it's really _her_ that's fallen out of love, not Effy.

Or maybe it's just that everything's so fucked up she doesn't know _anything_ anymore.

 

;;

 

At the harbour, she sits down on one of the benches, staring out at the ocean.

It feels like nothing and everything has changed, all at once, and she pulls her jacket a little tighter around her, because it's a windy September afternoon and she's still used to the sun in Maine, not yet ready to concede that summer's drawing to a close and the fall's fast approaching. She checks her watch; quarter past twelve. It's early, still.

She thinks about Effy, sitting in a building in an office she hates with a job she can't stand, remembers the old Effy, the one who used to not speak because she didn't _have_ to, not because she didn't want to, the Effy who sat on a park bench with her and passed a spliff and Bacardi Breezer back and forth until the sun went down and the air grew cold. The Effy who kissed her.

That Effy doesn't exist anymore.

"Hey," a voice says behind her.

Naomi turns around and Emily's standing there with her briefcase in front of her, in a dress suit and coat, her hair down for once, falling around her face and shoulders, looking redder than Naomi had ever seen it before.

"Hey," Emily says again, with a small smile, and Naomi felt her heart constrict up at the sight.

In two steps she's in front of Emily, sliding her arms around Emily's waist, feeling the briefcase hit her foot as Emily drops it, surprised, and then Naomi's kissing her, full and eager. Emily's hands go to Naomi's shoulders, not to push her away, but to draw her in closer, and it feels like the time that had passed hadn't mattered at all. It feels like the first time they'd kissed, a year ago, in Emily's kitchen. It feels like the first time they'd sat together on the train, when their eyes met.

It feels like everything and nothing all at once, but it never does feel like it does when she's with Effy.


	5. Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And I figured it out: I'm not the person that I used to be._

 

They fuck with their clothes still on, in the backseat of Emily's little sky blue Honda Civic, Emily with her hand down the front of Naomi's dress trousers and Naomi with her hand up Emily's skirt, knickers and black leggings pulled down to her knees. It's the most awkward position imaginable, but after only a few moments of quick, rough stroking, Emily comes with a shudder, flushed bright pink, and it doesn't take much more for Naomi to follow suit.

She's completely out of breath when Emily pulls her in for a kiss and when they break apart, she can't help but feel like she needs to say _something_ , because they haven't spoken since the kiss by the harbour. She comes up with, "I thought you didn't drive," and mentally rolls her eyes at her own words as soon as they slip out of her mouth.

Emily laughs and peppers Naomi's face with small, fleeting kisses. "I don't, usually. But I thought maybe this was something that didn't warrant me sitting and waiting a half hour extra for the train. Is that right?"

"Yes -- very much so, yes," Naomi smiles, eyes fluttering closed as Emily's hands move to her back, sliding just under Naomi's blue-gray blouse, pulling her in even closer.

 

;;

 

"What's going on, Naomi?" Emily asks later, when they're sitting in the backseat, windows open, smoking.

Naomi taps the end of her cigarette out the window, watching the ash fall. "What do you mean?"

"Don't," Emily says, in a quiet, strained voice, flicking her fag away into the street. "Don't do that, Naomi."

"Don't do _what_." Naomi doesn't want to talk about this, now or ever. She doesn't understand why Emily wants to, why she has to ruin the whole fucking moment. She wishes Emily could just enjoy it for what it is and just -- she doesn't want to do this right now. She _can't_. She flicks away what's left of her own cigarette and sighs, irritated, slumping down in her seat and crossing her arms, staring out at the sky.

"You do this _thing_ ," Emily says, in an annoyed tone, gesturing vaguely with her hands. "I can't describe it. You just sort of pull up into yourself because you don't want to talk about things. Which is fine, usually; I mean, I can just let things go, not ask questions when I probably should, but, Naomi, when you call me up out of the blue after not having seen each other all summer, of course I'm going to wonder what's going on. So _tell_ me. Please," she adds, after a moment, a hand settling gently on Naomi's arm.

Naomi bites down on her lip. "It's nothing," she says, avoiding Emily's gaze. "I just missed you, that's all."

"I don't believe you," Emily sighs, sounding very sad all of a sudden. "I mean, I don't believe that that's all."

"Well, what do you _want_ me to tell you?"

"I don't know," Emily sighs again, rubbing at her temples. "The truth."

Naomi looks out the window. The sky is beginning to cloud over, hinting at rain later this evening. Already Naomi can see herself, running through a downpour, trying to keep from getting wet as she sprints toward the train station. The bottom of her trousers are wet, clinging to her ankles, water soaking through her brogues. And then she thinks about Emily, about standing with her under a shop canopy, and brushing Emily's wet hair back off of her forehead. Imagines kissing Emily, tasting rainwater on her tongue. She and Effy kissed in the rain, once, when they were younger.

It feels like so long ago.

"I proposed to Effy," Naomi says, suddenly.

Emily lets out a strangled, "Oh?"

"It wasn't like -- well, it wasn't the usual kind of proposing, going down on one knee and all. Offering a ring. But it was -- I mean, I asked her, if she'd like to make things permanent. You know? Settle down some. Maybe not in all those words. She knew what I was asking though."

"Oh," Emily says again, in a monotone. "Well, that's ... I mean --"

"She said no," Naomi jumps in, finishing, and all at once she could feel that same stab of pain in her chest, just like when Effy first turned her down. She had forgotten about it, temporarily, but here it was again. Real and present. It felt like a belt was being wrapped around her heart, being set too notches too tight. She felt sick. "Effy said no," Naomi said again, just because she needed to hear the words outloud once more.

A pause.

"I'm sorry," Emily murmurs, covering Naomi's hand with her own. "That's -- well. I mean, I know you really -- "

"It's fine," Naomi says, pulling her hand away and fumbling around in her jacket pocket for another fag.

They're silent for several long minutes; Naomi focuses on smoking, watches the burning end of her fag glow red and yellow, stares at the blue-grey smoke, swirling up towards the ceiling, slipping out the crack in the window, escaping into the cool air of fall. Emily sits with her feet up on the seat, hugging her knees, chin resting on her arms. Naomi wishes that she could say something, just to break the silence.

But it envelops them, and Naomi feels like she's being sucked under water. Down, down, and she can't swim back up to the surface. Her lungs are filling up with water and she can't breathe, she's choking, floundering, and --

"I would have said yes," Emily says, very, very quietly.

Naomi drops her fag out the window, cups Emily's face in her hands and kisses her roughly. Emily's knees fall from her chest, her arms slip around Naomi's waist, holding onto her blouse with sheer desperation. Naomi, eyes closed, presses sloppy kisses down Emily's neck, imagines the white fabric bunched up in Emily's hands, between her fingers, can see it stretching from being pulled too tight.

Her fingers slip into Emily's knickers, two fingers sliding against her clit, and Naomi can hear the way her breath hitches, can feel the warm air on her neck, as well as the nails digging into her back, through her blouse. She traces along Emily's jaw with her tongue, moves down the arc of her neck, places a kiss at the base of her throat. Emily's hips move in quick, sharp thrusts, straining against Naomi's fingertips.

"You don't know me," Naomi whispers against Emily's ear, as Emily's breath comes out in increasingly shorter and shallower pants. "You _don't_."

"I don't care," Emily manages, gripping Naomi by the shoulders and pulling her in for a sloppy kiss as she comes, arching up, one leg wrapped around Naomi's hip.

 

;;

 

"Let's get coffee," Emily says, when the train pulls into the South Boston station on a particular dreary morning on the first week of February. "I'll be freezing on my walk with you and I want something to keep my hands warm."

"Alright," Naomi says agreeably, not even bothering to look up from her Blackberry.

They'd been seeing each other since late August now, though it feels like longer. They'd slipped back easily into the routine they'd worked out before they'd parted ways over the summer; afternoons were spent in Emily's office, sharing lunch and fucking against her desk, one of Naomi's hands clamped over Emily's mouth to keep her quiet.

Evening and mornings they rode the train together, if their schedules allowed for it. Naomi liked those times best, just being able to sit and do nothing but link their fingers together, Emily's thumb stroking across the back of Naomi's wrist. It was at times like this when Naomi forgot about everything else -- she forgot about Effy back home, forgot about the failed proposal.

It gave her such a sense of possibility.

"You know," Emily says, when they're waiting in line, standing by a display announcing the upcoming holiday, "the first American Valentines were made in Worcester. 1847, if I'm remembering correctly."

"Oh," Naomi says, staring at the board above the counter where the various coffee and tea flavours have been scribbled in different colours of chalk and in no disconcernable order. "Effy and I don't believe in Valentine's Day," she says at last, picking at her nails.

Emily raises an eyebrow. "How can you not _believe_ in a holiday?"

"Effy thinks it's shit. I think it's a consumer-fuelled holiday with no real purpose."

"Who doesn't like Valentine's Day, though," Emily says, sounding a bit annoyed. "Granted, it's completely ridiculous, but it does have its merits, yeah? I mean, it's fun. Don't tell me you and Effy have never done anything to celebrate it."

Naomi keeps her eyes fixed on her nails, fighting back that familiar -- and completely unwelcome -- wave of sadness mixed with nostalgia that threatens to wash over her. "We did -- once. Shortly after university. It wasn't a big deal."

"Well, I quite like it," Emily says, brightening a bit. "I've never celebrated it with anyone, mind, but the idea seems nice enough."

"Right." Naomi makes a mental note to buy Emily flowers on the fourteenth. She isn't usually quite so romantically inclined -- she's never cared much for things like that, and neither has Effy -- but it makes her a little sad, thinking about Emily always being alone on Valentine's, and really, seeing as they're sleeping together, the least she can do is try and make an effort.

She wonders then, if Effy expects her to do anything. They've never celebrated Valentine's before, except for that one time they both got drunk on cheap wine and decided to dance out under the stars in the garden. Naomi can still feel the wet grass under her feet from the rain earlier, how they couldn't even really see the stars at all, being so close to the city, but how Effy had laughed and pointed out the constellations to her anyway. She remembers the way Effy moved, how she stretched out on the grass like a cat, slender and arching. She'd tasted of wine and smoke, when they'd kissed; the next morning, Effy'd kissed Naomi's elbow, which had been scratched from falling on a rock.

"Maybe you should do something for her," Emily says, when they're walking along to Naomi's office, the wind tugging at their hair and scarves. "Maybe she's just saying it's shit because she knows you don't like it. Maybe she's just waiting for you to step up and not be a twat."

"Remind me again why I keep you around," Naomi laughs, tugging Emily in by her scarf for a kiss, taking care not to spill her coffee. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"Because _you_ care," Emily says, kissing her again with a smirk. "And because you get into a mood when Effy's unhappy and I don't like to be around you at those times. And seeing as our time spent together is short enough as it is -- "

Naomi sighs, taking a step back. "I know, I know."

"Look, I'm not saying anything," Emily sips at her coffee, blowing on it a bit to cool it off. Steam drifts up from the opening, in thin, wispy streams. "Just, don't forget about Effy, okay? I mean -- she's still your -- I'm not the only -- "

Naomi's hand settles on Effy's wrist. "I haven't forgotten. Don't worry about it, yeah? Things will be fine. I'll take care of it."

They part ways without a kiss; Naomi calls goodbye to Emily's back. Emily doesn't turn around.

 

;;

 

Naomi doesn't see Emily for three days afterward. The train rides feel longer without her.

 

;;

 

"When did you first know?" Naomi asks one evening, when she's lying on her stomach in their bed and Effy's giving her a half-hearted massage.

"About girls?" Effy's hands slide along Naomi's shoulders, squeezing them gently. Naomi can feel Effy sliding up and back against her arse, thinks about flipping them over and pressing teasing kisses along the insides of Effy's thighs.

"I was twelve, when I knew," Naomi sighs, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling of Effy's hands on her skin. "One of my mum's borders -- she was one of the nicer ones, you know. Not like most of the wankers that Mum let stay in the house. Anyway, she was nice. Always talked to me, asked me how I was, that sort of thing."

Effy chuckles. "She was pretty, too, wasn't she?"

Naomi smiles, remembering, as Effy leans forward to press a kiss to the back of her neck. "Mm, yes. Very pretty indeed. She had these hazel-coloured eyes and -- well, of course, I didn't realize at the time what it meant, fancying girls. I used to imagine pulling girls in by the tie, you know?"

Another kiss to her neck, fingers tracing down her spine.

"My brother didn't hide his porn quite as well as he thought," Effy says at last, sounding like she's smiling.

"Naughty," Naomi laughs.

Effy slips down off Naomi's back, curling up next to her. "When did you _know_?" she asks, brushing a strand of hair out of Naomi's eyes.

Naomi smiles at her. "I already told you."

"No," Effy says, staring at her with wide, brilliant eyes. "I mean, about love."

"Oh," Naomi murmurs. "Love."

She leans forward, kisses Effy once on the tip of her nose, then once again, this time full on the mouth. Effy lies back against the pillows, letting herself be kissed. Her hand closes around Naomi's, drags it down along her stomach, and then lower still. Naomi's fingers flex, stroke lazily; Effy sighs contentedly, wraps a leg loosely around Naomi's waist, drawing her in even closer.

Effy presses her mouth against Naomi's ear, her breath hitching as Naomi dips her fingers inside, just for a moment. "I knew," she says, breath warm against Naomi's skin, her nails digging into Naomi's wrist encouragingly. "I knew right when I saw you. In college."

"We only met at that party," Naomi murmurs, fingers quickening.

"And why do you think I was there," Effy moans, and Naomi can feel Effy's lips curving up into a grin, her hips jerking against Naomi's hand.

Later, when they've kicked off the sheets, and Effy's spread out on the bed, flushed and sweaty, stroking Naomi's hair while Naomi presses soft kisses all along her stomach, breasts, Naomi says, "And what if we hadn't gone to the same university together? What would you have done then?"

Effy sighs, hand stilling. She runs her fingers through Naomi's hair, pushing it back away from her face. "Then I would have had to forget you, wouldn't I? Lucky for me, I didn't have to."

"Yes," Naomi says, pressing her lips to the space between Effy's breasts. "Lucky indeed."

 

;;

 

"There's something I need to tell you," Emily begins, and immediately Naomi feels her heart plunge to her stomach, but continues to trace circles on Emily's wrist. They're sat in a double seat near the back of the train, and the sun is pouring through the windows, making the weather seem deceptively nice; it's still cool out, even for spring. But the warmth of the sun is making Naomi feel drowsy and content.

"Oh?" she asks, aiming for nonchalance and failing horribly. She wishes Emily didn't have to spoil the mood.

Emily sighs, catches Naomi's hand, brings it up to her mouth and kisses her finger tips, one by one. "I'm moving back to England," she says, finally, in a rush, her hand closing around Naomi's own, squeezing hard. "It's already been planned -- I told the university months ago that I wouldn't be coming back and everything's been settled. But I didn't want to tell you -- I mean, I couldn't, because I was afraid that if I said anything about it, I'd lose my nerve."

Naomi pulls her hand away, still unable to look at Emily, as if somehow by not looking it makes Emily's words untrue. "I don't understand," she says, after several long moments. "This is -- I mean, I know you said you missed your family, but I always thought that ..." she feels too stunned to speak properly.

"I'm sorry," Emily murmurs, looking horribly upset, and leans in to kiss Naomi.

Naomi lets herself be kissed, just for a minute; it isn't until Emily pulls back, searching her face with wide, brown eyes, that she's able to speak again. "I don't understand," Naomi says again, and feels on the verge of crying. "When are you leaving?"

Emily bites her lip, avoids Naomi's eyes. "In two weeks, when university ends for the summer."

"Two weeks," Naomi echoes softly.

"Naomi, please." Emily's eyes are shiny with tears. "You know why I have to do this, don't you? This is just -- you and I, we don't _work_. I mean, we _do_ , and that's just the problem. I've figured it out, see?"

"No, I don't," Naomi's suddenly angry; she can feel the sting of tears in her own eyes and she forces them back down. "I don't see at all. What have you figured out?"

"That you love Effy. And that you love -- or at least, I think you do -- me as well. But the thing is, it's not the same kind of love. You'll never love me the way that you love her. I thought maybe you could, but I know that you can't; I was just tricking myself. I wanted to believe you because, well, I _do_ love you. But I can't -- we aren't meant to be together."

Naomi imagines pressing Emily against the train wall and window with a kiss, imagines lying in Emily's bed, under off-white sheets and a sky blue comforter, imagines finally being able to put everything she's ever felt into words. What Emily's saying -- surely it can't be true. Certainly these kind of things are being said, of all places on a train, on a day hovering on the edges of summer. It doesn't seem at all possible. And yet, here Emily is; her mouth is moving, and her lips are forming words, but Naomi can't seem to make them out. All she can hear is the rush of the wind outside of the train, of the wheels grinding on the track, the sound of the book in her lap falling to the floor and hitting it with a dull, hollow _thud_.

"That's not on," she hears herself saying, though it feels as if she's somewhere far off, like it's not really her speaking. "That's not okay. You love me, but you're leaving? You can't go; I need you here. I need _you_. I know I haven't -- "

Emily covers Naomi's mouth with her hand, smiling sadly. "Don't, please. I'm not going to change my mind, Naomi. I know this is for the best, otherwise it wouldn't hurt so much."

She kisses Naomi, through her hand, just as the stop for Framingham is being announced over the speakers.

 

;;

 

The next two weeks pass by in a blur.

Nothing changes; every morning Naomi gets on the train to find Emily, sitting in their usual spot, papers spread out on the seat and her lap, red pen at the ready. Every morning Emily looks up and meets Naomi's eyes over the tops of her glasses, and the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. Naomi greets her with a kiss, sometimes knocking a few papers to the ground in the process, but Emily doesn't seem to mind.

Their lovemaking turns slower, sweeter. Buttons are undone carefully, clothes are removed as slowly as possible; Naomi kisses every inch of Emily's body, tongue sliding over each curve and angle; Emily arches up into the touch delicately, her fingers buried in Naomi's hair.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Emily murmurs against Naomi's cheek, her fingers stroking along the inside of Naomi's thigh.

"I don't want you to go," Naomi says, in between kisses. "It's not too late, you know, to change your mind."

"Your promised you wouldn't do this," Emily's fingers inch a little higher up on Naomi's thigh.

Naomi sighs, noses the hair away from Emily's neck, presses a kiss there. "I can't help it. You can't expect me not to try."

Emily pulls her back in for a kiss, smothering any other protests.

 

;;

 

On the evening before Emily's meant to leave, Naomi drives to Worcester.

She leaves Effy on the couch at home, smoking through a pack of cigarettes and watching documentaries on the telly. Effy hadn't even bothered to ask where she was going, when Naomi said she was leaving. She hadn't moved, either, when Naomi had bent down to kiss her on the cheek. She knows it's not right, leaving Effy here like this, but she also can't stop herself from seeing Emily just one last time.

Things will be different after this, she thinks, as she pulls onto the highway, the sun setting in the distance. And maybe Emily is right, she thinks, despite herself; maybe it is for the best that she's leaving. She's let things slide with Effy for far too long, punishing her for something she knows Effy could never do. She should have known that Effy wasn't the commitment type.

It had been stupid to think otherwise.

Emily isn't expecting her, of course, and so for one panicked minute after Naomi presses the buzzer for her apartment, stood in the foyer, she thinks Emily won't be home. She sees herself from last summer, standing and waiting for nothing but silence. But Emily answers a second later, much to Naomi's relief, and doesn't realize until she sighs that she's been holding her breath.

"You shouldn't be here," Emily's saying, just as she's ushering Naomi into her apartment. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you," Naomi says with a smile, shutting the door behind Emily and kissing her in the same motion. "This is the last time I'm ever going to ever see you. The last time I'm ever going to do _this_ ," she leans in, kissing Emily again. For a moment Emily pushes back into the kiss, but then her hands are on Naomi's chest, pushing her away.

"Naomi," she says, with a sigh. "You shouldn't be -- this is just going to make it more difficult, you know that, don't you?"

"I don't care," Naomi tells her, and silences her with another kiss.

They manage to make their way to the couch; the back of Naomi's knees hit the edge and they topple onto it, Naomi's hands sliding up Emily's top without hesitation, cupping Emily's breasts through her bra, feeling her nipples harden through the thin fabric.

Emily moans, pushing back into the touch. "I'm going to miss this," she groans, peppering Naomi's face with kisses. "I'm going to miss this so fucking much."

"I'm going to miss _you_ ," Naomi says, pulling her back in for a proper kiss, hands pushing up under Emily's bra and brushing her thumbs against Emily's nipples, loving the way Emily moans, arching against her hands, eyes fluttering closed, a flush slowly creeping up her body.

They make love frantically, half their clothes still on. Naomi reaches up between their bodies, strokes Emily through her knickers until her arms are shaking and she's barely able to hold herself up. "Come on," Naomi murmurs encouragingly, nipping at Emily's ear, and it's enough to tip her over the edge.

It's only later, when they manage to move to the bed, shedding the rest of their clothes along the way, that things turn a bit softer, sweeter. There's still an edge of desperation, though, when Emily's nails dig into Naomi's hip, her fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises, and Naomi's biting on the inside of her cheek to stifle a moan.

"You think it's the worst for you," Naomi mumbles into her pillow, as Emily writes her name along Naomi's stomach with a slender finger. "Because you have to leave. But I'm the one who has to watch you go."

Emily bows her head to kiss Naomi's stomach, the swell of Naomi's breast.

"You still have Effy," she says. "And she loves you."

"It's not the _same_ ," Naomi tells her, and she can't fight the angry tears that spring to her eyes. "I love her, yes, but she's not you. And she'll never be you. You're so different -- you don't even know, you've never met her. I love her, but I love you too. Maybe more than her, even; sometimes I think I do. We have this _thing_ , us, together. I can't explain it. But I don't feel the same with her as I do with you."

"So stop comparing us," Emily sighs, kissing her chastely. "Don't you get that that's always been the problem? You have to understand, Naomi. I'm not her."

"But I love _you_ ," Naomi insists, pulling Emily in for another kiss, this one rougher than the last.

Emily pulls away, offers Naomi one of her sweet, sad smiles. "And I love you. So you know why I'm doing this. I can't ruin this thing that you and Effy have, no matter how much I want you for myself. We don't -- we don't know each other, Naomi. We never did. We were just strangers who happened to meet on a train one day."

Naomi's fingers dance along Emily's collarbone, tracing the outline of it. "We were always more than just that."

She remembers stolen glances along across train seats, hands meeting in the space between their bodies, kissing in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. Emily pulling her in by her scarf; Naomi pressing her up against her office door, fumbling to undo the buttons on her blouse; sitting on the park benches in the South Boston harbour, staring out at the ocean.

Emily, with her hair up, reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose, student essays in her lap, a briefcase occupying the empty seat beside her.

Naomi starts to cry. "I'm sorry," she says, and lets herself be drawn into Emily's arms. "I can't let you go."

"It's okay, it's okay," Emily mumbles against her shoulder. "We still have a bit more time."

 

;;

 

The first month without her feels like dying.

She begins driving to work, instead of taking the train. Effy thankfully doesn't ask why; Naomi wouldn't be able to explain how just sitting there would be enough to reduce her to tears. Every part of her life is somehow linked to Emily; the coffee shops that she drives by on her way to work, the signs for Worcester on the highway, the sound of the water slapping against the pier, when she drives by the harbour. Nothing is safe.

One morning she sees someone wearing a scarf whose colour reminds Naomi of Emily's eyes; another day it's the scent of lilacs that sets her off, and she has to duck away down a side street to wipe frantically at her eyes.

It's strange, how Emily, inexplicably, seems gone forever. Like she's dead, instead of only just across the pond, in England. Naomi can't explain it, the way grief swells up in her sometimes, threatening to spill out. It's not as if she'll never see Emily again -- this is something she reminds herself of constantly.

They _will_ meet again, she thinks, almost desperately, even though every logical part of her is screaming that things are over, that even if they did run into each other again, it wouldn't be the same. Emily's not a part of her life anymore. That's all there is to it.

 

;;

 

Eventually, things start to get better.

Effy quits her job at _Boston_ magazine, which does wonders for improving her mood; her announcement about quitting, said over a glass of white wine for breakfast, makes Naomi feels guilty for not noticing sooner how unhappy Effy was working there. She silently vows to actually put in the effort to try harder from now on.

Naomi asks not to have to commute to Boston for her job, winds up being demoted to a lesser position, but one that's based solely in Framingham. It's better this way, she tells herself; Boston is full of too many memories, and she's only torturing herself by reliving them every day. It's what Emily would have wanted her to do, she thinks, and feels a pang of sadness, remembering the way Emily'd looked at her when she said she was leaving.

She'd said she loved Naomi too much to let her go, and that was why she had to leave.

It didn't seem right.

 

;;

 

The summer flies by.

Effy decides that the entire apartment needs remodelling and pours over back issues of _Better Homes & Gardens_ trying to figure out what sort of lighting would work best for their living room, what colours would go best in their bathroom. Eventually they settle on a blue theme, mostly because Naomi thinks it offsets the colour of Effy's eyes nicely, but also because it reminds her of Emily at the harbour, standing on the green and staring out at the ocean.

They spend their second summer in Maine, which seems markedly different this time around. They dance around the waves as they walk along the shore at night, wincing when the cold water hits their feet. They make love during the day, cloaked only in heavy, afternoon sunlight. Naomi strokes her hand along Effy's thigh, watches as the sun falls in warm, golden stripes across Effy's stomach through the blinds.

On the porch, watching the sunset, they pass a fag back and forth. There's red on the tip, bright red lipstick of Effy's that's smeared. It feels like being back in university again, when they spent long evenings sitting on a park bench, sharing a spliff and an alcopop, waiting for the sun to set and the air to get cold so that they'd have an excuse to leave together. An excuse to crawl into bed, huddling beneath the blankets and exchanging small, quick kisses.

Sometimes Naomi still thinks of Emily.

Usually it's late at night, after Effy's already fallen asleep, and Naomi's wide awake, still wound up and uncomfortably sticky with sweat in the hot summer evenings. The breeze coming off the ocean only helps a bit, but Naomi will go out to sit on the cement barricade between the street and the beach, a fag held between pursued lips. She likes to watch the tide come in.

And she wonders what Emily's doing, where she is now. She does the math in her head; five hours ahead, it's seven o'clock in the morning in England. Naomi wonders if Emily is getting up for a shower or letting herself sleep in this morning. She can see Emily sprawled out in bed, her hair losing it's red colour, the natural brown seeping back in. It still looks bright and in stark contrast against her snow white sheets.

She wishes Emily would write, wonders why she doesn't.

Wonders if Emily ever thinks about her, if she looks out at the ocean and sees them sitting there, on that South Boston bench, watching the tourists file on and off of boats, the steady hum of traffic and the city behind them, lost to the sound of water splashing against the dock.

Wonders if Emily wonders too, about her.

"Come here," Effy mumbles sleepily into her pillow, reaching out blindly for Naomi and she slips back into bed. Her cold feet brush against Effy's legs and she lets out a muffled squeal, arms wrapping around Naomi protectively. She kisses the spot where Naomi's neck and shoulders meet; Naomi buries her face in Effy's hair, inhaling deeply.

She smells like salt and smoke and coconut scented shampoo.

She kisses Effy's neck through her hair.

 

;;

 

"Are you happy here?" Effy asks, turning away from the window to look at Naomi.

She's sat on a chair beside the high windows over-looking the city, in their New York hotel room, a sheet drape loosely around her. The steady sound of the rain hitting the glass and the hum of the telly droning on in the background are making Naomi sleepy; she doesn't even look up from the bed when she answers.

"What, New York City?" she pulls the blanket up a bit higher around her with a small sound of contentment. "No, I much prefer Framingham. This city is too busy; it reminds me of London." She rolls over onto her stomach, opening one eye to look at Effy. "But you're not talking about here, are you?"

"I miss England," Effy says, turning her gaze back out into the city. "Don't you?"

"Sometimes." Naomi props herself up on an elbow, watching her.

Effy reaches across to the windowsill where her pack of cigarettes and lighter lie. She lights up with one swift, easy motion, blowing smoke rings up towards the ceiling. "I'm tired of America, I think. It's not the same -- you feel it, don't you? I don't feel the same as I did back before we moved."

"Probably because we don't go out every night anymore," Naomi tells her, with a small laugh. "Remember how we always used to do that? Go out and get pissed, wake up late for work every morning."

"They liked me too much to fire me," Effy says, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. She turns and gives Naomi a wolfish grin. "I think my boss fancied me. Anyway, you were far too clever; that's why your company had to keep you on."

"That's why we moved here," Naomi sighs, stretching out her hands for the fags and lighter; Effy tosses them over, her grin fading some. "I'm too clever for my own good," Naomi muses, fag held between her teeth, giving the lighter a shake. She gets the flame on the third try, almost burns her thumb in the process.

Effy shrugs off the sheet, crawling into bed beside Naomi; Naomi turns as Effy, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table, straddles Naomi's hips. The blankets bunch up around her, their bright white colour making Effy's skin look tanner than usual. Naomi sighs a stream of blue-gray smoke, strokes her fingers along Effy's bare thigh idly.

Naomi sighs again, watching Effy through heavily lidded eyes, fag held between two slender fingers. "Do you remember what it was like, when we came here four years ago?"

"As I recall," Effy pins Naomi's free hand the bed, intertwining their fingers. "We spent the whole time sleeping and fucking."

"I was thinking that maybe for once we could go out," Naomi says, leaning up as Effy leans forward, their lips touching for the briefest of kisses. "You know, like before. This could be our new start, you know. We could go back to the way things were before."

"Not just yet," Effy murmurs, kissing her again, sloppily this time, her hips rocking forward. "You'll have to wait for _that_ Miss Campbell. You'll have to wait a little while."

 

;;

 

Much later, when they're in the bathtub, sitting across from each other, Effy slowly soaping up her leg, Naomi says, "On the bench."

Effy looks up, raises an eyebrow.

"You asked me when I knew -- you know, when I knew that it was love." Naomi can't meet Effy's gaze, looks instead at the curve of her leg, the shape of the muscle underneath. "It was on the bench. That first time in university, when we sat there until the sun went down, getting spliffed and drunk. It was then."

"And how did you know?" Effy asks, a few wet strands of hair falling out a place, into her eyes. "That it was love?"

"I don't know," Naomi says uncertainly.

She tries to recall the feeling, to clarify, and is suddenly struck with the memory of Emily on the train on that first August morning. When Emily looked up, how their eyes met and it felt like the world had somehow been slowed down. It felt as if everything that had ever happened before now had existed solely for this moment. This one, tiny moment.

She reaches forward, rests her hand of top of Effy's. "I just knew," she says. "It doesn't matter how."


	6. The Sounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And I'm feeling like all this hell might change into something good._

 

Effy stretches out cat-like in their bed, bathed in sunlight.

"Good morning, you," Naomi says, coming in fresh from the shower, towelling her hair dry. She slips into bed beside Effy, who shivers a bit at the contact of cool, damp skin. "It's late," Naomi glances over at the clock, as Effy twirls a strand of Naomi's wet hair around her finger, letting it fall free into loose curls.

"Are you still visiting your mum today?" Effy asks.

Naomi yawns, props herself up on an elbow. "Maybe. I didn't call her. I wasn't sure if you'd be up for it."

"Mm," Effy stretches a bit more, grinning out of one corner of her mouth. "You go; I'll stay here. She's _your_ mum. I'll come along some other time."

"You make it sound as if you only want me and my mum to have some nice alone time together, when really you just don't want to have to listen to more stories about where she and Kieron went fucking on every beach in India."

Effy laughs, wrapping her arms loosely around Naomi's neck and leaning in for a kiss. "That obvious, is it?"

Naomi presses a kiss to the bridge of Effy's nose. "You can't fool me, Elizabeth."

"Oh," Effy sighs, her hand slipping between Naomi's thighs, teasingly, stroking absently. "I suppose that's true. I'm just better at other things."

"Yes," Naomi says, in a strained voice, lying back and parting her legs to allow Effy greater purchase. "Yes indeed."

 

;;

 

They run into each other on the street, stare at each other for about a full minute, then say, at the same time, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Emily laughs first. "Fucking hell; of all the gin joints in all the world, right? Honestly now, what are you doing here, of all places, Miss Naomi Campbell?"

"I'm here visiting my mum," Naomi says, and Emily bites down on her bottom lip and shaking her head. "This is where I grew up."

"You lived in _Bristol_ ," she says, more to herself than Naomi, sounding pleased and sad all at once, looking down at the pavement. "Of _course_ you lived in fucking _Bristol_." She looks up, eyes bright.

Naomi looks at her curiously. "What?"

There's a pause, and then Emily says, in a strange voice, gaze unwavering, "Bristol is where I used to live. It's where I lived before our family got moved to America. It's -- it's where I live now." She forces a laugh. "You know how it is, yeah? I just can't give up on the place, despite myself. Where are you -- ?"

"Effy and I are living in London," Naomi supplies helpfully, and to Emily's credit, her smile doesn't waver one bit. "We moved back two years ago, though to be honest, it doesn't feel that long. It's hard, you know, after living in America. We've got to get used to things again. But it was -- well, you know, it was really for the best." Naomi runs a hand through her hair. "Effy's happier here, and that's what matters."

"Yeah," Emily nods, flashing Naomi a small smile. "I know what you mean. And . . . I've been better since -- well, you know. I mean, it took a while, to start feeling . . . Well, it's been easier now that Katie and I have made up. We're still not completely fixed, of course, but we're getting better."

Naomi smiles at her. "It sounds like you're doing alright for yourself then."

"As well as can be expected, I suppose."

An awkward silence falls between them, then, and Naomi can't remember a time when they couldn't speak to each other.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" Naomi offers, just to break the lull in the conversation."For coffee, I mean. I think it would be nice to catch up, since we -- well, we haven't seen each other since . . ." She trails off, feels her face grow hot. Emily doesn't meet her eye, just looks down at her feet, suddenly very interested in the pavement.

"I mean," Naomi ventures on bravely. "We don't have to, if you don't want to. If you're too busy to do anything now, or just don't -- well, that's fine. But I'd like to. Go out, that is. As friends."

Emily nods. Then, "You probably need my mobile number, don't you?"

"Oh, right." Naomi digs around in her purse for her phone, finding it after a moment and flipping it open, punching in the button to add a new number to Emily's contact information.

"Here, let me," Emily says, reaching for it, and her hands inadvertently close around Naomi's.

Their eyes meet, and for a second, Naomi wavers. She remembers the sadness in Emily's eyes before she left, the way her skin felt under Naomi's hands, the way she arched up in the darkness. She remembers pressing her face into the sheets on Emily's bed, inhaling deeply; it had smelled like lilacs, like Emily's perfume on that first train ride, like the flowers that bloomed around her mum's house in the spring. Naomi wants, more than anything, in that second, to kiss her.

But then the moment passes, just as quickly as it had arrived, and Emily pulls her hand away with a muttered apology.

"I -- I've got to go," Naomi says apologetically,taking a step back, trying to widen the distance between them. "I've got to catch the train and Effy's waiting for me back home."

"Right, Effy," Emily says. Her smiles looks less natural, more strained, forced. "Forgot about her. How is she, anyway? We never did meet."

"She's fine. She's . . . happy. Happier than she was, anyway. She's doing freelance photography now, mostly, but it's enough to keep her busy. Her brother's well-off, and he's got connections, so . . . Well, you know how it works out. Anyway," she adds, cutting herself off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Like I was saying, I've really got to go."

Emily glances off in the direction of the train station.

 

;;

 

Briefly, Naomi contemplates telling Effy about Emily, about the strange twist of fate that brought them together again, but when Effy wraps her arms around Naomi's neck when Naomi comes through the door, kissing her with a "Welcome back, Miss Campbell," she decides against it.

There's no need to bring up a sore topic, which Naomi knows Emily is with Effy. They've hardly ever talked about Emily, but Naomi's learned that it's more of what Effy does than says that's meaningful. She remembers coming home evenings to find Effy sat on the couch in the dark, headphones in, having smoked through a whole pack of fags. On nights like that, Effy wouldn't speak at all, would just slip into bed beside Naomi, facing away from her, tucked up into herself. Naomi hated nights like that; they were the only times when she felt like she didn't know Effy at all.

So of course she doesn't want to ruin things, especially not now. Running into Emily was . . . Unexpected, to say the least, but it isn't as if she's planned on going any further than just meeting Emily for coffee at some point. Even if she wants to -- which she _doesn't_ , of course -- she can't let anything else transpire from their meeting. She's put Effy through enough; it just isn't right. And it isn't right for Emily either.

And maybe it's time to grow up too, she thinks, as Effy, after kissing along her jawline, threads their fingers together and leads them both towards the bedroom. The whole affair had been -- well, she doesn't even know what it had been. Her attraction to Emily was undeniable of course, and she recalls how strong the urge had been to kiss her this afternoon. But it just isn't right, she knows it, and it's stupid of her to think that --

Well, she doesn't even know.

As Effy's hands work to undo the buttons on Naomi's blouse, Naomi decides to just not think at all.

(For a while, anyway.)

 

;;

 

"I really fucking love you," Naomi murmurs, against Effy's ear, one leg wrapped tight around Effy's waist, drawing her in closer, brushing Effy's sweaty fringe back from her forehead and kissing the space there. "You know that, don't you?"

"You never had to ask before," Effy says, staring at her with wide eyes, and Naomi feels her blood slow in her veins, heavy and thick like slush. But then Effy kisses the tip of her nose and continues, "Of course I do, Naomi Campbell, you twat," and Naomi's heart melts a little at that.

They stay in bed for the rest of the evening, lounging about, drifting in and out of sleep and making love slowly, lazily, tangled up in the sheets. At one point Effy crawls out of bed long enough to fetch her iPod and a bottle of vodka, and they fuck to Minus the Bear's _Pachuca Sunrise_ , one of Effy's favourites.

"You're gorgeous," Effy says, lighting up and taking a long, slow drag of her cigarette before handing it over to Naomi.

Naomi murmurs in agreement. "Yeah, you too," she says, exhaling a mouthful of smoke and trying to ignore how in the red glow of the fag in the darkness reminds her of Emily's hair in the sunlight.

 

;;

 

In lieu of coffee, Emily offers to take Naomi out for drinks one evening, at a little pub in Bristol that Naomi hasn't been to in years. She makes up an excuse to Effy for ducking out, telling her she's off to visit her mum again, and tells herself that it's not a complete lie, because she _does_ plan on nipping 'round to her mum's house before meeting up with Emily.

Emily's already there when Naomi arrives, sat in a corner tucked in back of the pub, almost in the shadows. Naomi orders herself a pint and takes it over to where Emily's sat, hoping that Emily can't hear how loud her heart's pounding, because it feels to Naomi like it's about to burst right out of her chest. She's never felt so nervous around Emily before, and she doesn't know why she is now. Maybe, she thinks, as Emily flashes her a brilliant smile, it's because they haven't seen each other in some time.

In a way, Naomi thinks, it's almost like they're meeting all over again.

They slip easily into conversation; Emily asks Naomi about her job and Effy and London, and it occurs to Naomi half-way through that she has this entire life that Emily knows nothing about. She exists only on the fringes, knowing only what Naomi tells her. Naomi feels a pang of sadness at that, and remembers what Emily had said to her, about how they were only strangers.

She hadn't agreed then, but now -- now, she doesn't know.

"I've missed you, you know," Emily says, later into the evening. She pauses, her eyes searching Naomi's face. "I hope that's okay for me to say that."

Naomi smiles. "Of course it is," she says, and her hand searches out Emily's hand under the table, their fingers intertwining. "I've missed you too."

"I never told anyone. About us, I mean. Even Katie, though she's asked if -- if there was someone who . . . Well, you know. It's not that I didn't want to," she hurries on, flushing a bit, "it's just that. Well, I kind of liked keeping it a secret. Something that was all mine. I know it sounds stupid, but -- "

"It's not," Naomi tells her, and feels her heart swell a bit at the smile that spreads across Emily's face.

"You know, it's funny," Emily says. "For a while I wanted nothing more than to be able to tell people. About us -- about _you_. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. You always made me feel like that. Alive. And I just -- "

"Emily," Naomi warns quietly.

"I just don't _care_ anymore, " Emily continues, her voice rising a pitch. "I don't care and when I see you, I only want to -- "

She doesn't finish, just leans across the table, kissing Naomi roughly. For a second, Naomi doesn't react; she's frozen in the moment; it feels like that first time all over again, and she doesn't know what to do, because when she came here, she never thought that this would happen, but a part of her had _hoped_ secretly that --

Naomi pushes into the kiss, untangling their fingers and running her hands through Emily's hair, gripping the back of her head and pulling Emily in closer, deepening the kiss. Emily tastes sickly sweet, like peaches.

"Oh," Naomi says, when they break apart, stunned.

 

;;

 

They fuck up against the wall in the alley beside the pub like teenagers, Naomi sucking on a spot on Emily's neck until the blood rises to the surface, leaving a dark, purple-blue bruise on pale skin, as Emily drags Naomi's hand up under her skirt.

"Oh, fuck," Emily breathes, against Naomi's neck, nails digging into the exposed skin of Naomi's waist, where her shirt and trousers meet. "Fuck -- Naomi -- "

Naomi hadn't forgotten about this, the way Emily moved against her, the way her _yes_ -s became breathier the closer she got to climaxing, the way she always needed to be kissing Naomi as she came, biting down hard enough on Naomi's bottom lip to draw blood. And Naomi hadn't forgotten the deftness of Emily's fingers either, how, slipping a hand down the front of Naomi's trousers, she could bring Naomi to the edge so quickly.

When she comes, hard, against Emily's fingers, fireworks going off behind her eyelids, all Naomi can think of is how this could all be different, if only she'd just _let_ it be different.

But then she thinks of Effy, sat at home, waiting for her expectantly, and guilt settles heavily in her stomach.

"I can't stand it," she says against Emily's lips, kissing her forcefully. "I can't."

"It's okay," Emily says, smoothing down her hair, holding her tightly. "It's okay"

 

;;

 

"You know this can't happen again," Naomi says, as they stand outside on the street, sharing a fag. "No matter how much I -- I just can't let it happen again."

"I know," Emily tells her, her voice heavy with sadness. "I knew you were going to say that before I kissed you. But when I see you, Naomi, I just can't -- I've never been able to _not_ want to kiss you. To touch you. You don't know what it's like, Naomi, to know that you're here, and not be able to do anything about it."

But I do, Naomi thinks, crushing the cigarette under her foot, watching as the wind picks up, scattering the ashes.

She leaves Emily standing on the pavement, alone.

 

;;

 

Effy's in bed asleep when Naomi arrives home. Naomi slips out of her clothes quietly, curling up against her, nosing the hair away from the base of Effy's neck to press a kiss to the space there. Effy stirs in her arms, waking up just enough to mumble, "How was your mum's?"

"Fine," Naomi tells her, kissing Effy's neck again. "Just fine."

 

;;

 

She gets a text from Emily, a week later: _coffee? just once more, for old times' sake?_

It's not until Effy says something does she realize that she's smiling ridiculously.

 

;;

 

"You look nice," Emily comments, from her chair near the window, as Naomi enters the cafe. "Did you just come from work?"

"Business meeting, yeah," Naomi says, slipping down into the seat opposite Emily, dropping her bag to the side. "It's the thing I hate most about this job. I was thinking, you know, about maybe moving back into the travelling branch of the company, where I originally started working. But I decided against it."

Emily looks up from stirring her tea. "Oh? Why not?"

"I think I'm too old for it, actually," Naomi laughs, and feels her face grow a bit hot at that. "But no, really, I don't think travelling would be a good idea. I did it a little bit, back when Effy and I were just out of uni, and just -- it doesn't work. Puts too much of a strain on things."

"But surely you two are stable enough now." Emily taps her spoon on the rim of her cup.

Naomi sighs. "Not as stable as I'd like, unfortunately. Not all the time, anyway."

Emily clears her throat. "Oh."

A awkward silence settles over them. Emily sips at her tea while Naomi fidgets nervously with the keys in her pocket, listening as they clink against each other and a few coins. It seems so loud in the sudden silence. Deafening almost, and Naomi wants to say something, but what could she say? That things had never been the same with Effy since Emily? That usually things were okay, but sometimes Effy slipped into the sulky silence that Naomi had come to know so well back at the height of the affair? She couldn't say that. Not to Emily.

Finally she said, "It's always been like this. It's not -- well, it's just how Effy is, you know. She comes in and out of moods."

"I still wish I could have met her," Emily says, propping her chin up on her hand. "She's always sounded so mysterious, your Effy. I never understood how -- well."

They spend the rest of the time in silence, while Emily finishes off her tea and Naomi checks her email on her iPhone. There's a missed call from Effy too, from an hour earlier, and Naomi makes a mental note to call her back when she's on the train, feeling a tiny pang of guilt about blowing off Effy for more time with Emily. It feels like Boston all over again.

Later, outside, Naomi sighs and reaches over to take Emily's hand in her own, squeezing it gently. "You know that I -- I would have stayed with you," she says quietly. "If you had let me, if you'd stayed in America, I would have been with you."

Emily flashes her a weak, small smile. "It's a nice enough thought," she says, after a minute, and Naomi can see her eyes shining with tears. "But you and I both know that in the end you would have always gone back to her. I don't think you can help it; she's ingrained in you. You can't not love her."

"Emily -- "

"No, really," Emily twists away, pulling her hand from Naomi's grasp, swiping at her eyes. "It's not a bad, thing, Naomi, I just wish you'd understand. I've always -- well, I know you never -- "

Naomi steps forward, cupping Emily's face in her hands, brushing a tear away with her thumb. "I've always loved you, Emily. From the first time I saw you, I loved you."

"Don't tell me that," Emily murmurs, standing up on tiptoe to kiss her. "Please don't."

"Sorry, sorry," Naomi mutters against her lips, kissing her again. Her hands fall from Emily's face, landing on her hips and settling there, holding Emily in place, pulling her in even closer. It reminds her of that last kiss in Emily's apartment, three years prior. But it's different now, Naomi knows.

It feels like an ending, for once.

"Goodbye, Naoms," Emily says, when they finally break away, turning to leave. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime."

"Yeah," Naomi manages a smile, despite the sting of tears in her eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

She doesn't watch Emily go.

 

;;

 

Naomi finds Effy sitting on a bench, the same one where they first met, smoking a cigarette and staring out ahead of her. In the distance, the lights of the city are just coming on, as the day melts into the evening. Naomi sits down next to her with a sigh, glancing over for a moment before shoving her hands into her pockets.

What she had with Emily -- Naomi'd always imagined it would be easy to walk away from it. To live with -- or without it. With that one glance on a train, she'd felt her heart jump to her throat, her blood slowing in her veins. She should have known that it was never something she could never walk away from.

This isn't going to come easy. She should have known that, but at the time, it never seemed like anything would be this difficult. Not Effy, not Emily, not anything. That first kiss on a park bench at night, that first time she downed peach Schnapps and how it burned in her stomach; she never thought anything would come hard, only easy. Everything with Effy had always felt so easy before; slipping in or out of a relationship, it had never taken any work at all.

Easy to find, hard to keep; that's what Emily had told her.

"Can we just sit like this?" Naomi wonders out loud, as they both stare out at the city, at the lights from the cars and shops and buildings, how they almost look like stars, just closer up. In the distance, she can hear the steady thrum of traffic and honking of horns and the sound of music, drifting in from somewhere, sweet and lighthearted.

"Yeah," Effy says, exhaling a mouthful of smoke, her lips curving up into the smallest of smiles as Naomi reaches across and finds her hand, threading their fingers together.

"Yeah," Effy repeats, after a moment. "We can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little [fanmix](http://twistomatic.livejournal.com/599808.html) for this fic.


End file.
